Riftkeepers: Reckoning

by Carrie Whitethorne

  “I know. I didn’t think I could love you any more than I do until I heard you say all of that. Your strength is…inspiring, Mo Chridhe,” he said, kissing her head.

  She smiled and inched closer, her arm over his stomach, her chest tightening at the endearment.

  Just keep it positive, Charlotte. Don’t let her spread fear and despair. If that happens, she’s already won.

  Twenty-one

  After three days of intensive shield training, Charlotte was ready for a break.

  “Honestly, Callan, I’m just tired. It’s been constant for weeks. You go. The kids can’t miss a session. It’ll give you chance to see your parents without me hanging around, too,” she said, wiping the surfaces in the kitchen. “Anyway, I have that scrapbook to fill. It’ll keep me busy. Something mindless and normal to do.”

  Kissing them goodbye, she turned and flicked on the kettle as they left.

  “Drink and sort through that chest.” She sighed to herself, leaving the room to retrieve it.

  She stared at the knots and grains in the wood as she drank her tea, lost in her thoughts.

  Why didn’t you tell me, Mum? It probably wouldn’t have helped, but…well, we’ll never know.

  Dumping her empty mug in the sink, she settled at the island with her scrapbook and began to empty the chest.

  Carlie’s carefully translated notes sat before her and she closed her eyes.

  The first of us to go. How many more are we going to lose before this ends? How many more will I be responsible for?

  The angled loops and curving bases of the steady handwriting captivated her as she read the translations of her mum’s diary. Reading about him, how he’d treated them, provoked the burning hatred she held for him. Not even his horrific death stirred any compassion in her.

  He deserved his death. We didn’t deserve the fallout from it. Stupid, stupid man. He handed it to her on a plate. All that stolen power. It should have died with him; not fed her.

  Sighing, she tidied the pages and set them to one side with the original, unwilling to read any more. Reaching back into the chest, she felt the glossy texture of a photograph and smiled.

  Carefully sorting them into some sort of chronological order, she studied each in turn. All but one was of her or her mum. The one that wasn’t, she realised, was of her mum’s family on Arran. The large group photograph, losing its colour and damaged at the corners from frequent handling, showed her mum holding her as a baby.

  How many hours did you sit and look at this, Mum? How often did you want to go back but daren’t?

  The people around them all smiling bore a vague resemblance to Carlie. Scanning the faces, she eventually found her cousin at the front, peering around her father to look at the baby. Brushing her finger over Carlie’s face, she recalled Carlie saying she how she remembered that visit.

  A whole family that could have protected her. Protected us both.

  She placed that photograph on the bottom of the pile for later, then reached back into the chest retrieving her mum’s old nursing and birth certificates. These she placed beneath the photographs and peered into the empty chest.

  Frowning at the empty cavity, she muttered to herself, “Not much to show for a lifetime, is it, Mum? I won’t have much more to leave mine.”

  Leaving her seat, she ran up the stairs for the box of gems she’d bought the previous week, a small selection of baby photos of the children, and a wedding photo of her and Callan. Before going back to the kitchen, she dug out a large manila envelope and a pen from Callan’s office.

  She carefully arranged photographs on the pages of the scrapbook and glued them in place, writing small, but detailed descriptions of the people, the time, and the location beneath each. She managed to fill a whole page describing her mum; a double spread of pages displayed her certificates. The photographs switched from ones of her and her mum, to ones of the children as babies. Of an exhausted, but happy Charlotte. Until she noticed her eyes. Her smiles didn’t quite reach them, as though something was missing, leaving them without any sparkle.

  Was that because he wasn’t there? Was I so badly affected and didn’t even notice?

  He found me. We’re here now…

  On the second to last page, she secured the copy of the only photograph taken at their wedding, and then poured her heart onto the paper.

  With the scrapbook completed, she closed it and placed it in the bottom of the chest and reached for the beautiful wooden box. With great care, she removed each of the gems from its velvet bag and settled them on the counter. She picked up the ruby first. Holding it up for the sunlight streaming into the kitchen to catch its many facets, she closed her fingers over it, pressing it into her palm. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she opened her hand and looked down at the ruby heart she’d created, slipping it back into its bag and placing it on its dried flower bed.

  She had lunch prepared by the time they came home; simple soup and sandwiches since she’d lost track of time with her activities. Her projects were safely stored in the chest; the chest stuffed at the back of her wardrobe.

  The children went into animated detail when describing their training session. Since Blair was combining physical and magical training most days, they had a lot to explain.

  “We’re in Avalon for dinner,” Callan informed her, clearing the table. “Ma wants a family meal. It’s been a while.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Yeah, feels like ages since we all sat around a table, doesn’t it? I’ll be able to leave these with Taran,” she added, patting a heavily stuffed envelope.

  Callan pulled in his brows as he studied it. “What is it?”

  “Just Mum’s diary and its translation. It’s no good to me, so I thought he could have it archived.”

  “Is that all you did today? Sorted through that?”

  “There was a lot to get through. I’ve done a scrapbook for when the kids are older. Old photos, bits about Mum so they can get to know a bit about her.” Her smile faded and she quickly turned away from him. “But, yeah. The little chest is at the back of the wardrobe again, never to see the light of day,” she said over her shoulder, leaving the room. “What time’s dinner?”

  “Six,” he answered, watching her go.

  Dinner over, the family had moved outside to finish their drinks. Dagda and Taran were entertaining the children in the gardens, as was becoming customary, while Alayna and Dane helped Caoimhe in the kitchen.

  “Are you feeling better now?” Callan whispered.

  “Yes,” she said carefully, narrowing her eyes. “Why?”

  “Because you were upset earlier. Understandably.”

  “Yeah, well it’s done now,” she sighed “Need to give Taran that envelope before we leave. Where did Fe go?”

  “I assume bathroom,” he said, looking behind.

  Ferne made her way slowly towards them looking miserable.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked in a whisper.

  Ferne shook her head, avoiding her gaze, and looked out at Dagda.

  Callan disappeared, showing up behind Zander and tossing him in the air to frighten him.

  “Okay, what’s happened?”

  “Nothing, we’re just bickering a lot,” she said sadly. “It’s probably just stress on his part, but I don’t know how to make it better. Think I need a few days at mine. Give him some space.”

  “Or he could come and stay up here for a few days, Fe. Is it really that bad?”

  “No, it isn’t bad. I mean, it isn’t like he’s…I just…I don’t know. He’s under so much pressure all the time, and, well, I think I need the break more than him.”

  Charlotte nodded, taking her friend by the hand and said, “Whatever you feel is best. Let me know if you need anything, won’t you?”

  “I think I want to go home,” she said weakly, watching Dagda.

  Callan, can you nip Ferne home?

  She smirked at the way he cringed at her intrusion and said to Ferne, “Callan
will take you now.” Then turned to go inside.

  Dane was waiting for her by the doors. “They okay? Her head’s a right mess.”

  Charlotte clicked her tongue and scolded, “You shouldn’t be in people’s heads.”

  “I was concerned,” he said casually. “She’s usually all smiles.”

  “Yes, well, she’s going back to her house for a few days from the sounds of it. Needs a break. She isn’t used to playing the sit at home girlfriend. It’s probably getting a bit much for her stuck inside all the time.”

  “Unlike you,” Dane smirked.

  “I have things to do!” she spat, drawing a chuckle from him. “Stop baiting me! One day I’ll retaliate and you won’t like it.”

  Dane pouted and backed up a step. “Father said you’d visited.” He observed Callan speak quietly to Ferne before escorting her home. “Checking on him.”

  “Yeah, well, someone has to.”

  “It meant a lot to him, you know.”

  “He’s been good to me. The least I can do is ask how he is after such a horrific experience. He’s got a lot on his shoulders, Dane. You all have,” she said, walking away.

  “And you,” he said, closing the distance, and speaking into her ear. “You’re under much more pressure than we are. Who’s checking on you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said quickly. “I have Callan and the kids and the rest of you. I’m…” she faltered and drained the glass she’d been cradling.

  “I know. But don’t feel you have to be brave all the time, okay? None of us are brave all the time.” He shifted to stand beside her, his arm hanging loosely beside hers. “Anyway,” he said cheerily, “we need to feel useful. If you’re going to be the fire power, at least let us be the emotional support.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Don’t be facetious, Charlotte. It’s unbecoming,” he drawled, strolling out onto the patio.

  She sneered at him as Callan appeared at her side.

  “She isn’t happy,” he murmured.

  “No. I think she’s struggling with being so isolated up here,” she whispered. “Did she say about going back to her house?”

  “No, but it’s coming. I’ll take her down when she wants to go.”

  “Will Dagda be okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s a big lad. They just need to rearrange things a bit. If she isn’t happy, they have to find a middle ground. She’s entirely different compared to you. You were used to being at home.”

  “I hope it sorts.” She stopped talking as Dane shot her a warning glance.

  Clearing her throat, she ducked inside to fill her glass as the group came up from the gardens.

  Finally managing to speak to Taran alone, she handed him the envelope she’d brought with her. He examined the contents, frowning as he realised what they were. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep the translated copy?”

  “Nope. I don’t want to read that again. It’s of more use to you in your archives than it could ever be to me. I’ve been meaning to sort them out for ages, but never got around to it.”

  Taran nodded and placed the envelope on the dining table as Alayna joined them. “I’ll have them looked after tomorrow morning. How are you?”

  She smiled. “I’m fine, Taran, thank you. Busy with training, reluctantly running, waiting for something to happen, just like everyone else. But I’m fine.” She hoped her honesty would prevent further questions. “I’m really looking forward to Beltane,” she added, hoping to change the subject.

  “It’s definitely our thing,” he said with a flash of his brows. “This is a very special Beltane for us, Charlotte. Our first with you and the children, and our first with Callan in a long time.”

  “Yes. Sorry about that. If I hadn’t been carrying a ward around with me, he may have found me sooner and been here for Beltane years ago.”

  “Oh, that doesn’t matter,” Alayna said dismissively. “This year is what matters. All of us here together, as a family.”

  “Where do you hold the festival?” she asked, glancing to the patio doors.

  “Out there,” Taran confirmed. “Anton repairs the lawns for us the following day. The crowds are enormous. The whole city, the Druid community, and most of Houska attends.”

  A flicker of concern must have showed in her eyes. “Security is not an issue. Please do not worry about that.” He placed a hand on her arm to reassure her and smiled as he waited for her to respond.

  She nodded, but didn’t speak. Dane came to her rescue, his arm sliding around Alayna’s waist.

  “Are you fussing again?” he asked, shaking his head. “It’s best to just smile and nod, Taran.”

  She considered offering him a smart remark, but instead smiled apologetically and turned away.

  It’s getting late and we’ll have to go home soon. Easier to just let it go.

  After a series of goodbyes, they finally went home where she could brood in relative peace. The children went to bed without much fuss and she joined Callan on the sofa with one last glass of wine before they turned in.

  “What did Dad say to the diary?” he asked as she settled her head into the hollow of his shoulder.

  “Wondered why I didn’t want it,” she said with a laugh. “Like I want that reminder staring out of the wardrobe at me every time I get dressed.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re gone now. I was wondering if you fancied a weekend away?” he asked.

  “Umm…can we? With all this going on?”

  “Yeah. Nothing exciting. Just a cabin, woods, us four. I think the children are getting restless again and it’ll break the weeks up until they go back to school.”

  “A weekend in a cabin sounds wonderful,” she said, smiling up at him. “Where were you thinking?”

  “Canada. We still have the small house I bought there last year. It’s out of the way; quiet, and nobody knows we have it, so no visitors.”

  “You make it sound as though we always have a house full.”

  “We’re always seeing someone,” he said with a small sigh. “It’s to be expected. We have a lot of family and friends. But after having you all to myself for ten days last month, I’ve found I prefer it just being the four of us sometimes.”

  “Hmm,” she said in agreement, shifting so that she could kiss him. “Provided we don’t turn into complete hermits, I’m happy to sneak off for quiet weekends as often as you’d like.” “Thank you,” she added after a pause.

  “What for?”

  “Being perfect,” she said, settling back onto his chest.

  Twenty-Two

  Tyrin grinned as his shield covered him and Enya. She looked uncomfortable, unused to being told to attack a family member.

  “Enya, it’s just practice, baby,” Charlotte called, attempting to quell her unease. “You’re just testing my shields; that’s all. You won’t hurt me.”

  Zander showed no such trepidation. He began the assault, upsetting the ground beneath her feet. Trusting her shields, she scanned her opponents. Callan, surrounded by small balls of flame, prowled along the stream to her left, Izak mirroring his movements to her right. With them both out of her line of vision, she was instantly at a disadvantage and turned to watch Izak.

  He’s the bigger threat. His lightning can strike me on all sides, as well as his fire. I’ve still never seen Callan at full force, so god knows what he’s going to do. Tyrin and Enya together aren’t going to mean anything good either, and I still don’t know if I can save myself if Zander opens a chasm…

  Taking an uneasy step back, she waited for one of them to make a move. The earth shifted beneath her boots and she turned to face Zander. Blair murmured something in his ear, and they disappeared.

  Great…

  Enya, apparently over her initial uncertainty, stepped out of Tyrin’s shield, creating a small one of her own. The shimmering disk began to spin, a Catherine wheel of turbulent water, and she pushed it forward as the shifting ground cracked.

 
; Flames leapt from the fissures, licking at Charlotte’s boots, and melting the nylon of her laces. Her own fire responded, blanketing the ground, smothering the flames as she stepped away.

  The cracks followed, trained on her movements, and she glanced up just in time to see Enya’s attack meet her shield. The water crashed with incredible force into the unseen barrier, washing up and around Charlotte. Her attention momentarily drawn to the crashing wave, she failed to notice Callan had edged closer, behind her.

  His attack hit with a resounding boom. Instinctively, she cowered, much to Tyrin’s delight. His bark of laughter drew a snarl of frustration from her as she retaliated. Whirling on Callan, Charlotte sent a blast of her own, shadow and flame colliding with his own shield. Encased in a myriad of colour, he absorbed the flames and braced against the solid screen of shadow. Somehow breaking her barrier, he laughed, then rushed her. Two flaming daggers appeared in his hands as he sprinted, hair flying in his wake. Before she could react, the ground splintered again, knocking her off balance.

  I have to move.

  Taking a steadying breath, she looked for an open space, then ran. She felt them behind her. Power chasing her down. Callan had maintained his chase, Izak joining him, her back tingling in warning, telling her they were close. Making for the stream, muscles already protesting as she charged, she sent her shadow out to trip one of them. Not daring to look behind, she focused on what lay ahead.

  Over the stream. To the bolder. Use the bolder.

  Reaching the stream’s edge, she leapt, hoping her power could help her in a safe landing. Lightning flashed as it hit the bubbling stream, the explosive force of electricity mixed with water knocking her back. The bright light burned her eyes, distorting her vision, and she landed awkwardly on her back with a startled cry. As she gasped for air, her shadow soothing the pain in her back and chest, the ground opened. She slid into the chasm, carried by loosened soil and clumps of grass, coughing and retching on a mouthful of earth. Water followed, a cascade over the lip of the hole Zander had created, threatening to push her to the bottom.