Ephemeral and Fleeting

by Patricia Reding

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  Lucy looked at her, searchingly. “Did you ever think it was because . . .” She pulled back, sat up straighter. “Oh, never mind.”

  “What? Was I going to send him away because I didn’t ‘love him enough,’ as you say?”

  “Well . . . yes.”

  “No. The very thought left me cold. But—” Tears sprang to Mara’s eyes. “I couldn’t break my oath, Lucy. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing the girls. At the time, that idea was even worse to me than the idea of losing Dixon. They were so helpless. They depended on me.”

  She looked out the window at her side. “I couldn’t break my vow, and Dixon would never have asked me to. It’s like I told Nina all those years ago: if I’d turned from my oath, Dixon would forever after have wondered when I’d turn from him.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “What does this have to do with Petrus?” She took her friend’s hand in her own.

  Lucy closed her eyes, as though viewing her memories in her mind’s eye. “He had a charge of his own,” she finally said. “I told him that if he broke his vow, I’d not have him. He was . . . not pleased. He said he didn’t believe me—that he thought I was incapable of loving—or at least of showing it.” She straightened her shoulders. “Maybe he was right. I don’t know. In any case, I never saw him again after that. I went on my way to follow my first love—Ehyeh and the Select—and I suppose he did the same.”

  “Is this who you thought you saw today?”

  “Yes.” She pulled her hand free and sighed. “But of course, it wasn’t possible. Still, for a moment, I . . .”

  Once more, Mara tapped on the table. Then, “You know,” she said, “now that the twins have found their way, maybe you want to be free from all of this. You could still make a life for yourself, you know.”

  Lucy shook her head.

  “But suppose Petrus is free from his oath now. Perhaps his charge is deceased.”

  Lucy held Mara’s gaze. “No.” She sighed. “I’ve had a lot of time to think this all through. Why would I do that? Allow someone into my life like that? A man I can’t even grow old with? No, Mara, I say I let him go, but I suppose in truth, there were more things than just my mission—and his charge—that kept us apart. You see, I knew that eventually, he would grow old and that, therefore, one day he would . . . die. This ‘gift’ we Oathtakers to seventh-born members of the Select enjoy is, in some respects, a curse. Sure, it seems a blessing never to physically age, never to grow old and weak, but . . .”

  Looking down, Lucy wrung her hands once more. “Well, when it comes to dealing with others, it can prove difficult—especially for those like us.” She glanced back up. “It’s not like he’s the only one who ever showed an interest. I mean— Well, had I never had a charge who was a seventh, I too, would have aged after losing mine. Perhaps the idea of starting over then wouldn’t have seemed so . . . daunting, but . . .”

  She leaned back. “Well, you know, you and Dixon are the only ones who could have found a happy ending together given that you’d both had a seventh-born of the Select for a charge. For me, the differences between Petrus and I seemed—no, they were—insurmountable. It was easier for me to call an end to it all back then, than it was for me to face the possibility that I might lose him later.”

  “I see. So, you went your separate ways.”

  “We did.” Lucy sipped at her tea. “I haven’t thought about him in . . . years. But today, when I thought I saw him, it so surprised me that I was careless.” She shook her head. “He didn’t appear to have aged all that much—if any . . . and his charge was quite young when we first met,” she muttered, looking off as though seeking answers in the air. “Assuming his charge lived a normal lifespan . . . Well,” she sighed, “I’m sure I was simply mistaken.”

  She put her cup down. It clinked when it hit the saucer. “I don’t know why this is so hard for me to talk about—except, of course, that I fear people will find it all rather . . . amusing.”

  Mara put her hand over Lucy’s. “There is nothing humorous about losing someone we love,” she said.

  “No.” Lucy smiled for a brief second, then turned somber. “I suppose you’re right. But I do feel very foolish. And to think that because of it, Saga died. It’s just . . . shaken me, I guess.”

  Mara squeezed her hand. “I understand. So, let’s just keep this between the two of us then, shall we?”

  Holding her gaze, Lucy nodded.

  Having recently learned of the existence and location of the compound, he’d arrived there just before its residents who’d gone to the City of Light for a time, returned. But for days now, it had bustled with activity.

  Hidden behind a tree, the remaining fall foliage that surrounded him concealed his lean form.

  He peeked out. His black eyes narrowed. Things had grown quiet.

  That had been a close call earlier. He was sure he’d been seen—by none other than Lucy Haven. When all those people rushed into the building that he’d seen her enter earlier, he’d feared they’d come looking for him. But then, no one did.

  So . . . perhaps he was mistaken.

  He pulled up the hood of his woolen robe. He’d best return to the cave in which he’d been staying.

  He made his way through the woods striving to avoid stepping on dry, fallen leaves that might tattle on his presence. Fortunately, they were mostly damp now from a recent rain.

  When he arrived at his camp, he settled in, and then retrieved some dried food from his pack. He’d need to return home soon. He hadn’t expected to be away for so long. He’d just longed to see her again . . . It had been some time since she’d gone into hiding.

  After several hours of sitting silently, the first of the moons rose, and with it, the cold descended. He was grateful he was alone. He enjoyed his own company far more than that of anyone else. It gave him time to think.

  She’s as beautiful as ever.

  He cringed at the thought.

  Oh, how I love her.

  And hate her.

  She should pay. They all should pay. Who were they anyway, endeavoring to determine his future?

  He’d best them all.

  Chapter Three

  “I’m staying,” Nina cried. Her sobs shook her shoulders.

  “But—” Mara started.

  Jules pulled her to the side. “I’ve tried, Mara, but she won’t hear of leaving.”

  “We need you with us at the palace to oversee security there,” she told him. “But then there wouldn’t be anyone here to see to her safety.”

  “And the children are staying with me,” Nina added.

  Mara’s eyes pleaded with Jules. “Let me talk to her. Please.”

  He shrugged. “If you like.”

  She approached Nina, then knelt at her side. She took one of her hands in her own. “Nina, listen—”

  “I am not going!” She pulled free, took to her feet, stepped away, and then wiped her eyes. “I can’t believe any of you would even ask this of me. My child is in the hands of that monster!” She breathed in heavy gasps. “Haven’t I lost enough to him already? Three of my own children, all those years ago? And then I almost lost Calandra when his men invaded the compound. When does it stop? Huh? How much is enough?” Shaking her head, she moaned. “Oh, why would Ehyeh do this—”

  “Ehyeh did not do this,” Mara whispered.

  “Right,” Nina snapped. “As you are so fond of saying: ‘He has but allowed it.’” She turned away. “How could you understand anyway? You’ve never had one of your own.” She glanced back, her eyes glaring. “You have no idea what I’m suffering.”

  Mara bowed her head and looked at the floor. Nina had hit on a subject that had caused her some pain of late. She’d spent her entire adult life raising the children of another, never to have had her own. Fortunately, her attendant magic provided for her continued youth, so she certainly could have a child . . . But, no. She couldn’t allow for that. The
risks were too great. So, with Lucy’s assistance—and a daily cup of barrenseed tea—she’d remained childless all these years. Sure, there were times she wished she could see her own—Dixon’s own—child in her arms, but she felt that would inhibit her ability to honor her oath for the twins’ safety. In the end, it was better to leave well enough alone.

  Tears welled in her eyes. She tried to hold them back as she rose to her feet. She approached her long-time friend and cohort. “You’re right, Nina,” she said, reaching for her.

  Nina pulled away.

  Mara followed. She took Nina’s hands in her own. “You’re right. I don’t know what you’re feeling. But I do know this: we can’t afford to lose Jules. We need his expertise. And I know that you don’t want harm to come to the twins any more than I do. You love them like your own. I know you do. And you know that we can’t afford to leave you here with Caden and Calandra without protection. Most of all, though, I don’t want to see your family divided.”

  “So what’s good for you others, is good for me. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

  Mara looked down. “No, Nina, it’s not.” She looked back up. “I can’t even begin to understand the pain you’re going through.” She bit her lip. “Listen, I know it’s no consolation, but you thought you’d lost her. Now you know—”

  “Don’t you dare!” Nina seethed. “Don’t you dare try to tell me that ‘all is well’ since she still lives. She is in Chiran. She is a slave. Can’t you understand what I’m saying? If she manages to break free, she’ll come here looking for us—looking for me! I have to be here.” She glanced her husband’s way and scowled. “And Jules belongs here. With me. With his children.”

  Wincing, he approached.

  Mara turned to him. “Please, may I have just one more minute with her . . . alone?”

  Sighing, he turned away and then stepped outside.

  “I need to talk to you, Nina.”

  “Just go, Mara. Haven’t I done enough for you over the years?”

  Her words stabbed at Mara’s heart. She cringed at the sound of them and then, swallowing hard, directed her friend toward two nearby chairs.

  “Nina—”

  “Don’t even try, Mara.”

  “Please, hear me out.” She clasped her hand. “Let me set out my plan, and then you can respond.”

  Clenching her jaw, Nina sat, glaring.

  Mara looked down at their hands, once again, interwoven. She looked back up, “Our lives have been . . . connected for many years,” she said.

  After pulling her hand free, Nina folded her arms. She looked away, said nothing.

  “I know of your sacrifices, although as you are so right in saying, I’ve never had to experience them for myself. I want to make it right for you, but I also want to do what’s right for all of us—”

  Nina glanced back and opened her mouth to speak.

  “And for all of you,” Mara quickly added. “So, I’ve a proposal. We’ll leave a couple Oathtakers who are without charges here, at the compound, in the event Carlie makes her way back here. Then we’ll send a couple more back into Chiran to see if they can find out where the Chiranians are keeping her, and hopefully, to bring her back to you.”

  “But, of course, you wouldn’t dream of going yourself,” Nina spat, shaking her head. “No, that would be too much to ask,” she muttered.

  Mara grimaced. “I would go myself, but it’s no place for a woman. I know that thought doesn’t make any of this any easier for you. You are right to worry for Carlie and to insist that we do what we can for her—and we will.”

  Nina closed her eyes.

  “Please, Nina, for all of us. We need you and Jules—and he needs you and your children. And I know that you’re angry and hurt—and you’ve every right to be—but the twins need you, too. Don’t you see?”

  “Hah!”

  Nina sat quietly for a minute. Finally, she asked, “So, who would you send?”

  Mara shrugged. “I don’t know. Truthfully, I wish Marshall and Jerrett could return, as they already know how things work there. But I don’t want to divide Jerrett’s family again, particularly so soon after he’s just returned. And as for Marshall . . . Well, he would be in considerable danger there.” She paused, in thought. “In any case, we’ll figure it out. I’ll bring it up at the meeting tonight after the ceremony for Saga.”

  Nina stood and paced. Finally, she sighed deeply, and turned back. “I liked her,” she said. “Saga, I mean. What happened to her?”

  Mara’s shoulders slumped. “Ahhh . . . magic. Magic happened to her.”

  Nina’s eyes narrowed. “Magic?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, that’s all I can say. But we’ve been together too long for me to keep this truth from you. It was a terrible, terrible accident. So, I’d appreciate it if you kept this to yourself.”

  A knock came at the door. Mara turned as Dixon entered. He held her gaze for a long moment.

  Finally, she turned back Nina’s way. “What do you say, then? Are we in agreement?”

  “Very well.”

  The compound residents all gathered in the sanctuary they’d build years back, to offer their “farewells” to Saga. Not a few eyes shed great tears. Although she’d only been with the group for a short period, she’d made fast friends with a number of them. Still, it was the old-timers, Leala and Fidel, who clearly suffered the greatest loss with her death.

  When the ceremony was over, they all made their way to the burial grounds. Fortunately, they’d not had occasion to see many of their own off over the past two decades, so only a few headstones dotted the earth. Sadly, today, they would add another.

  Dalton and his charge, Declan, along with Farrell and his charge, Ellian, lowered her body into the ground.

  Reigna, tears running down her face, stood in the back with Eden. When she turned toward Lucy, who, standing nearby, held her arms out to her, she stepped up to accept the woman’s embrace.

  “I feel so responsible,” she muttered.

  Lucy squeezed her tightly, then loosened her hold. She held Reigna’s gaze as she shook her head. “No, child,” she said, “it’s me who should be sorry. I failed to share critical details with you before it was too late.”

  “I don’t want this power, Lucy,” she whispered.

  “I know. For what it’s worth, those things that are the greatest blessings to us, can also sometimes be the greatest curses. You know, I was just telling Mara that earlier today.”

  Eden, listening in, neared. “What curses are you talking about?”

  Lucy smiled at her, wanly. “Mmmm . . . nothing, in particular. Just know that I appreciate the difficulties your powers are likely to impose on you two.”

  Reigna embraced her once more. “You know, Lucy, you’ve . . . changed,” she said.

  She pulled back. “Have I?”

  “Yes. Since we returned here, you seem . . . I don’t know . . . more—”

  “Introspective?” she offered.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Perhaps I am. Which just goes to show you that one is never too old to learn—and for the record, you two played no small part in reminding me of that. Thank you.” She released Reigna. “Then again, it is equally true that you’ve changed since your journey and your testing in The Tearless.”

  “Have I?”

  “You both have. You’ve . . . grown up.” She squeezed Reigna’s hand. After releasing her, she directed the residents to the dining hall. There, she told them, they’d hold their last meeting at the compound while enjoying one of Adele’s famous meals.

  They made their way to the hall. Inside, it smelled of herbs and spices, fresh bread, and chicken grilled on an open fire.

  Reigna and Eden sat at a table with Mara and Dixon, along with Jerrett and Velia, Jules and Nina, and Lucy. Before long, they’d all nearly eaten their fill. Even so, they expected Adele would arrive shortly with assorted sweets to finish off the refection.

  Mara took anothe
r bite of her food. “You know,” she said, “one of the best things that happened to us all those years ago when we sought a place of safety for you girls,” she nodded at the twins, “was when Adele got caught up in my magic and accidentally ended up traveling with me and joining our little company.” She chuckled.

  Jerrett grinned at her. “What brought that up?”

  “Well, honestly, I mean— Where does she come up with these ideas?” She gestured with her fork at her plate.

  “What have you got there?” Dixon asked her.

  “Some kind of . . . I don’t know. Adele topped this crunchy bread with a mixture of a soft, creamy, almost fruity cheese, chopped basil and scallions, sun-dried tomatoes, salty olives, and garlic. Then she grilled it.” She took another bite. “And if I had to guess,” she added, her mouth still full, “I’d say there’s a bit of lemon zest in it.” She moaned. “Gracious Ehyeh, I think I’ve died myself and moved on.”

  Eden laughed. “I love her cooking. Trust me, Mara, when I say that Reigna and I greatly appreciated that venison you brought to us when we were in The Tearless, but honestly, I’ll take Adele’s home cooking any day!”

  Her sister nudged her. “You’ll get no argument here.”

  Lucy pushed her chair back. “Well, we’d best get things started,” she said. Then she made her way to the front of the room as she called out, “May I have your attention everyone?”

  Slowly, the din died down.

  “Of course, I expect Reigna and Eden will be handling matters going forward, but I wanted to take a minute to thank you all for the great work you’ve done in preparing things here so quickly in anticipation of our trip to Shimeron. Your attention to detail is most appreciated. At this time, there’s not much left to do, although I understand that Adele could use some assistance in packing up the rest of the kitchen this evening.”

  She glanced about. “For now, given Saga’s death,” she said, her eyes flickering in Reigna’s direction, “all I’ve got left, is to finish going through some books. One way or another though, I’ll finish that up tonight so that we can be on our way first thing in the morning. If any of you would like to assist me, I won’t turn you away.” Again, she looked to the twins. “Would you two like to take it from here?” she asked them.