by R. Lee Walsh
Pausing, I turned back. “She's in the water?”
He nods. “Looks like your brother decided to take a little swim after he ran off. That's why we couldn't find him earlier. But don't worry, with Derek and the two of us chasing him, we should have him all the way to Singapore by tomorrow.” He winked, then turned to leave, humming to himself.
~4~
A week later Rick and Elizabeth packed up their 67' Dodge Charger, heading for Penfield, New York, Elizabeth's hometown. Rick was surprised at how easy it was to convince Liz to go back to Penfield, but also knew she'd been homesick. Grace and Adam Temple, Elizabeth's parents, were anxiously awaiting their return and the opportunity to hold their first grandchild.
While relocation was wise, it remained a temporary solution. Now that her identity had been confirmed, my brother would stop at nothing to find her.
Within weeks after their return to Penfield, Rick and Elizabeth were constantly at odds, the stress of looking for work and living with Elizabeth's parents, even temporarily, kept Rick out later and later at the bars each night.
“I hate to state the obvious, but the handwriting's on the wall. It's only a matter of time before they split,” Riley said, suggesting at least a partial solution.
“Yes, but we still can't be a party to it. It has to be their decision.”
“I agree, but when they do, why not give Rick a purpose?”
“Such as?”
“Leave that to me,” he replied. “I know just the place for him.”
As predicted, Rick and Elizabeth called it quits soon thereafter and a short time later, Rick disappeared altogether, his whereabouts known only to Riley. Too young to understand, Hope struggled with her father's absence and even though the rest of the family tried to make up for her loss, nothing could take the place of her father.
The second attempt on her life came at age four. It was a sunny spring day and she'd been helping Grace with little chores around the family farm--things like gathering eggs and feeding the chickens. I watched her from the cornfield behind the barn while having a long conversation with her grandfather, Adam.
“So after the war you came here?” I asked, still reeling at what he'd told me thus far. For months I'd noticed him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. Since I'd chosen to remain invisible while other humans were around and only another Irin or Sheva could see me, it took me some time to figure out why.
“Aye. A close friend of my father brought me here. Grace's husband had been killed on the beach at Normandy. He and I were so similar in looks that it was easy to pass me off as him. At the time, Paula was just over a year old and Elizabeth still in Grace's belly.”
“So Grace knew?” I asked, astounded at this revelation. Even I had no idea Adam was not Hope's real grandfather.
Adam paused, looking across the pasture at his wife. “She was the eldest of thirteen children. Basically, a slave to her family in Ireland. By the time she was fifteen, every last one of them had died from the famine. She made her way to this country with nothing but the clothes on her back. When the only good thing she'd ever known had come home from the war a bit different than she remembered, she accepted it, however odd it may have seemed at the time. Took me years to figure out she knew I wasn't her real husband.”
My heart beat heavy in my chest and my throat was suddenly dry. “You said a friend of your father arranged this?”
“Aye.” He stared at me, his clear green eyes narrowed against the midday sun. I searched his features and the truth of it hit me so hard I stumbled back, horrified.
Riley had a son?
“Who was the friend?” I asked.
He blinked, his sun weathered face becoming pale. “I cannot tell you that. I gave my word.”
“Who else knows?”
“No one, that I can promise. And you should know, I've never actually met my father. My mother died in childbirth and I was left in an orphanage. A friend of his appeared shortly after and arranged for a kind family to adopt me. Everything I've got I owe to the kindness of that stranger.”
How could this be? And of all places, here? My second in command had not only broken the pact, but had an accomplice? In front of me stood everything I'd sworn to eliminate, yet unlike the others I'd destroyed, this creature appeared to be nothing more than a kind, hardworking farmer.
A thunderous crash reverberated through the air and we both turned toward the sound. Hope and Grace were nowhere to be seen but we could hear Grace shouting in anger. Running toward the sound of her voice, Adam was at my side. When we came around the barn, we saw Grace running toward the house, clutching Hope in her arms.
“She's too young and I'm too old for this!” Grace shouted. That's when I smelled it. My brother.
“Go with them!” I shouted to Adam, running toward the front door of the barn. Breathing heavily, he nodded, then raced after his wife.
Tearing the barn door from its hinges, I roared into the dusty building, fully prepared to commit murder. “Show yourself, you coward!”
Vibrating with rage, I searched every nook and shadow of the building but he'd already gone. Turning to leave, my foot touched something soft and I looked down to see a brown sparrow lying broken on the hay strewn floor. Kneeling, I gently picked up the still warm body.
Little bird.
In the space of a heartbeat everything had changed. The one I trusted most had been deceiving me for years and the brother who sought to steal my beloved had very nearly succeeded. I knew then, there was only one way to keep her safe from him.
Bowing my head, I cupped the bird in my hands, then blew my breath into its lifeless form. I felt the spark of life in the flutter of a wing and the spasm of tiny fragile feet.
Opening my hands, I released the bird, then watched as it darted toward the open door and freedom. Standing, I paused for another moment, the weight of what I was about to do making me shake.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, then intentionally severed the connection between myself and Hope. The tie that bound our hearts as one fell silent.
There are no words to describe the emptiness I felt or the paralyzing fear that followed. I would have no way of knowing what happened to her, but my brother also couldn't trace her through me.
I found Grace holding Hope in her lap under a tree in the front yard. Adam stood a few feet away watching me approach.
“He will not come here again,” I said, now fully in material form.
Grace stilled, but didn't turn to look at me. Only minutes ago she faced mankind's greatest enemy and here she sat calmly holding her precious granddaughter. As a previous descendant her courage has always been extraordinary and I had to wonder just how much she and Adam had discussed over the years. “Why is this happening? She's just a baby.”
“She will grow to adulthood with no memory of this, but you must teach her to recognize him. When she reaches maturity, you'll no longer be able to protect her and you can be sure he'll come for her again.”
“And what's to stop him until then?” Grace asked, her voice filled with despair.
“Me,” I said. “And I promise to keep him from her.”
Kneeling close, but still behind them and out of sight, I waved my hand slowly over both of them. Hope closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Grace visibly calmed as well, her heartbeat slowing to a normal rhythm.
“Goodbye for now, my love,” I whispered. “Until we meet again.” Nodding to Adam, I stood, then motioned for him to follow me to the barn.
“You're leaving?” he asked when we reached the mangled pile of lumber that was once the door.
“I am.”
“But if you're not here, then who--?”
“You,” I interrupted, continuing into the barn. The rancid smell unique to my brother still lingered in the air. I turned to face Adam, looking him in the eyes. “By the treaty I'm sworn to uphold, your very existence is an abomination and our laws say you must be destroyed. I have no idea how your father kept yo
u a secret all this time, but every single half breed I've encountered before has been a violent monster. For reasons I don't understand yet, you're different. While it doesn't change the laws, in return for your cooperation, I will allow you to live and not reveal your origins.”
Adam met my unflinching gaze, his expression wary. “I don't understand.”
“Do you love them?” I asked, glancing toward Grace and my beloved.
“Of course.”
“Would you die for them?”
He blinked, then clenched his jaw. “In a heartbeat.”
“Then give me your hand and I will give you the power of a full blooded Irin. From this moment on you will defend her with your life and I will protect all of you from my brother.”
Wide-eyed, he looked down at his calloused hand, then slowly raised it toward me.
“You can tell no one, not even your father. What we are about to do is forbidden and if discovered, will damn us all. Thirteen years from now, when she's eighteen years old, I will return. Until then, it's your job to make sure nothing happens to her.”
A weighty silence passed between us, then Adam nodded. Grasping his forearm, I spoke the ancient words that bound him as full Irin, transferring supernatural strength to him. A jolt of power passed through our hands and Adam nearly collapsed, then held tighter to my arm. When his expression grew calm and his pale blue eyes radiated immortal light, I released him.
Satisfied, I turned to leave, then paused again at the threshold. I watched as Grace walked across the yard, carrying a sleeping Hope to the farmhouse. Leaving her was the hardest thing I'd ever do but the only way to truly protect her from my brother.
He'd never get past me again.
In the meantime, Adam would see to it that she grew up safely, at least until my return.
Stepping into the sunlight, I stared at my beloved, memorizing her childish features for the last time. I sensed Adam walk up behind me. Grace faltered, glancing toward me briefly, her eyes wide.
Taking a deep breath, I gazed out across the green cornfields, gathering strength from the light of the sun. With one last nod to both of them, I headed for the road, pondering how to keep what I'd done a secret from Riley.
~5~
“He has a daughter your age,” Elizabeth said to Hope. They were sitting at the kitchen table and Hope was eating cinnamon toast, licking sugar off her fingers one at a time. “And an older boy. He's six or seven I think. Their mother died.”
Hope frowned, staring at the crumbs on her plate. Elizabeth had taken an office job to support them and Hope was not quite five. She spent her days out at her grandparent's farm and sometimes the weekends too. Lately her mother seemed more distracted than usual and now she wanted to spend Saturday, their only day together in weeks, introducing her to some man and his children.
“But Mitzy had her babies,” Hope whined, wiping her mouth with the napkin Elizabeth handed to her. “Grandpa said I can have one of her kittens if I help take care of them.”
“They'll still be there tomorrow,” Elizabeth said, rising to refill her coffee cup. “Maybe just this once you could think of someone besides yourself.”
Stung, Hope blinked back tears, then slid from her chair. Taking her empty plate as Gran taught her, she placed it on the counter.
“I'm sorry, little bird,” Elizabeth sighed, squatting down to look Hope in the eyes. She smoothed her dark curls from her forehead. “Look, I know you miss daddy, but it's been two years. We both have to move on sometime. I just want us to have a nice day together, alright?”
Mimicking her mother's movements, Hope reached up to brush Elizabeth's bangs to the side. Swallowing her frustration, she nodded.
“That's my girl,” Elizabeth said, giving her a gentle push. “Now go put on the new dress Gran bought you. The yellow one with the ruffles on the bottom.”
Hope went to her bedroom, then struggled to put on the yellow dress by herself. She paused to look out her window, where a tiny sparrow sat chirping on the ledge. Seeming to draw strength at this reminder of her namesake, she wiped her eyes then went to find her mother.
Less than a year later Elizabeth married John Matthews, a quiet minister who lived down the street. His daughter, Faith, would become Hope's closest friend, his son Simon, her sworn enemy. A year after that another son, Joseph, was born and John Matthews and his modest congregation grew in both size and popularity. Ten years later the entire family relocated to Rochester, New York, where John's new church, the Omega Alliance (OA) was built. His sermons now televised worldwide, in two short years John Matthews became America's most beloved preacher and leader of the largest mega-church in the world.
Now
~6~
“How many days has it been?” Riley asks. We sit under a flowering plum tree next to the massive construction site where the windows are being installed on the twenty-six floor New Generation headquarters in Portland, Oregon, an organization founded by none other than Sam Prentice.
My brother.
“Four thousand seven hundred forty.”
“And how many battles with your brother?”
Pausing to watch as Sam tours the site with his foreman, when they go inside I turn to glare at Riley. Almost thirteen years have passed and I've kept my promise. I haven't actually seen Hope in person since the day I left her in Penfield. Adam gives me weekly updates and I've made it a point to ignore what the media says about her.
In less than a week she turns eighteen. She's alive and well. That's all I care about.
“Why? You writing a book?”
Raising an eyebrow, he shakes his head. “What's with the scars? You look like a walking horror story.”
“So?”
“So, one of the perks of being Irin is supposed to be our ability to heal, but you intentionally kept every mark. Lately, I can't decide which bothers me more-your crappy attitude or your constant need to flaunt your superiority.”
It's taken every last ounce of self-control I have not to tell Riley I know about his son. The fact that my own actions that day may have sealed all our fates is the only thing that keeps me from opening my mouth. “You forget who you're talking to. I don't have to justify my actions to you or anyone else,” I say, rising to my feet.
Riley rises with me, crossing his arms over his chest. “So that's it? It's all on you, is it?”
The air around us crackles with electricity and a jarring crash of thunder rolls across the sky.
“I keep the scars to remind me of what's at stake!” I erupt, the pent up fury making him flinch. “All it takes is one second of me being distracted and everything is lost!”
Scowling, Riley stares at me, his jaw set like granite. Black clouds roil overhead and a powerful gust of wind brings the metallic scent of impending rain. “What happened to you in Penfield?” he asks finally, his penetrating gaze unflinching.
The Irin know Sam came to the farm and I chose to go after him myself. To reveal that I'd severed the connection between myself and Hope would arouse suspicion and risk exposing all of us. Instead, I've sent multiple teams to help protect her in my absence and no one would dare to question my judgment, let alone my authority. After all, I'm still the Scepter and head of the Irin. Besides, with no way of knowing who Riley's accomplice is, there's no one I could safely tell. So for the last thirteen years I've borne the weight of both our secrets by pretending not to know.
“I told you.”
Squinting against the wind, he opens his mouth to respond then glances behind me. “He's on the move.”
Turning, we watch Sam exit the building with his foreman, looking up at the storm. Frowning, he shields his eyes with a clipboard, surveying the area. Spotting us, he pauses for a moment, his black eyes narrowing.
The whole world knows where Hope is now, but her stepfather, John Matthews', unprecedented fame has made it impossible for Sam to directly attack the Matthews without drawing negative attention to himself. Instead, he retreated to Portland where he's been bu
sy building his own organization, the New Generation, a civic group that preaches freedom from religious tyranny and government accountability. A charismatic public figure and dynamic spokesman, by capitalizing on people's frustration with current social, economic and environmental issues his popularity exploded almost overnight. He holds public rally's on a monthly basis which are attended by thousands.
He continues toward his vehicle, a bemused smile on his face.
Riley clears his throat. “Look, in less than a week she turns eighteen and unless you plan on scaring her into submission, I suggest you find some other way to deal with your fear.”
“Is that what you think? That I'm afraid?”
Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head. “Of course you're afraid. The difference between you and the rest of us is that we admit it.”
“What do you want from me?” I ask, struggling to control my temper.
“How bout a thanks, for one? When's the last time you showed some kind of appreciation to any of us? Ever since you came back from Penfield you've acted like you're doing us a favor.”
“He came for her! You didn't even know he was there! If it wasn't for me going after Sam myself, we'd have lost her long ago, so don't talk to me about favors!”
An ominous rumble in the clouds overhead unleashes a deluge of pouring rain. Riley stares at me, his posture rigid in anticipation of an assault. They say what angers us most about others is what we can't stand in ourselves. For a moment I see myself in his eyes and the angry tyrant I've become shames me. Both of us have committed crimes. Which is worse--the one who commits the act or the one who pretends not to know while secretly using it for their own gain?
Rather than carry this burden anymore, I raise my hands to catch the water in my palms, lifting my face to the sky. Closing my eyes, I let the anger be washed away along with thirteen years of resentment, fear and loneliness. When the last raindrop falls, I feel Riley's hand on my shoulder.
I rub the water from my face then turn to face him. Whatever Sam's got planned, the truth is I need Riley on my side. A day of reckoning will come for both of us, but now is not the time.