Riftkeepers: Reckoning

by Carrie Whitethorne

  The couple nodded as they tried to keep their attention on him. Ferne flitted from cooing at the baby testing the strength of her legs on her lap, to scowling at them, making them uncomfortable. Dane ignored her and continued. “Elian will assign Druids to watch over her. All you’re required to do is care for her. She needs a normal life with the usual experiences. We want her to be happy.”

  “We’ve been doing this a long time, Dane. She’ll have foster siblings and friends; we can arrange for you to see her, send her school reports. Anything you need,” the woman assured him, glancing back to Ferne with a nervous smile.

  Dane smiled, handing her a large manila envelope. “I know you’ll keep her safe, Molly. I wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with her. Any problems, the direct number for both Taran and my father’s studies are in there. I’m usually in one or the other.”

  Molly left her seat and approached Ferne. “I know how hard this is. Believe me, I know. You know where we are; where she’ll be. If you ever want to visit, just to spend some time with her while she’s young enough not to remember, call and we’ll put the kettle on.”

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, Ferne smiled and said, “Thank you, Molly. I think it’s probably best she doesn’t know who we are at all. It’s just…”

  “I know.” Molly sat beside her and grinned at Charlotte, who had given up on the necklace in favour of Ferne’s hair. She bounced and squealed as Ferne supported her beneath her arms. “But if you need to see her, you know where we are.”

  Dane sat on the sofa arm, watching. “Alright, give her to me.”

  Ferne passed the baby up, hissing as her hair went with her. Dane snorted. “Let her go, Lottie. I want a cuddle before you go.”

  He didn’t bounce her; he held her cradled against his shoulder. She instantly calmed, turning her head to rest it against him. “Be a good girl for Molly. I’ll be watching and we’ll come and get you when the time’s right.”

  Ferne covered her mouth with her hand and walked over to the window as Molly took the baby.

  “I can’t thank you enough; both of you.”

  For the first time, Molly’s husband spoke. “I’ll send video updates to your email address, Dane. If you can’t be there, you can watch her grow up that way.”

  Dane glanced to Ferne, shook his hand and said, “That would be great, thanks. Ferne? Saying goodbye?”

  She shook her head rapidly and continued to stare out of the window, tears lining her cheeks.

  With one final kiss on Charlotte’s cheek, Dane tilted his head towards the door and walked over to Ferne. “Come on,” he said as the door closed quietly. “Let’s go and get wasted.”

  Thirty-three

  Enya sighed, rolling her eyes at the excited chatter of the group of young girls in front of them and turned her attention to the phone in her hand. Zander was wearing earphones, leaning against the window of the foyer ignoring everything as they waited to be seated.

  “Why are we here? Of all the places in all the world to eat, you chose pizza, Dane?”

  Glancing to Ferne, he smirked. “What’s wrong with pizza? It’s my favourite food group.”

  “Carbs is what’s wrong with pizza.”

  Ferne clicked her tongue. “With your metabolism? I thought you were above all that crap, Enya.”

  Dane watched the party in front as they were led to their tables, nodding once to the parents as another server arrived to escort them to their seats.

  “Four?” she asked as she gathered up menus from the stand by the door.

  “Please, somewhere by that window.”

  She nodded and Dane allowed Ferne and Enya to pass as he reached to tap Zander on the arm. “Turn it off, mate.”

  Once they were seated and the server had brought glasses for Enya and Zander, wine for Ferne and a beer for Dane, Ferne sat forward and said, “I need your attention for five minutes, so stop peering out of the window.”

  Enya made a sour face while Zander sat up a little straighter.

  Ferne’s blood heated at the attitude. “Carry on, Enya, and I’ll—”

  “Alright. Enough,” Dane growled, putting his bottle down on the table with a little more force than was necessary. “We’re here to watch this.” He tipped his head towards the party opposite.

  “A load of ten-year-old girls?” Enya drawled, unimpressed. “That isn’t weird at all, Dane.”

  Shooting her a warning glance, he said, “Not just any ten-year-old. See the one in the black top?”

  Zander looked around for the child in question and gasped. Enya was seconds behind. “That’s—”

  “Yep. Found her.” He sat back and took a smug swig of his beer.

  “That’s Mum?” Enya whispered, eyes glittering.

  “That’s your mum,” Ferne confirmed. “Well, not exactly her. She doesn’t have her memories and she’s eight years younger than you, rather than nineteen years older, but it’s the new version of her.”

  The girl noticed them watching her and frowned, her cheeks flushing. Zander quickly looked away, turning his attention to his empty glass. “I’m just going to—”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  They left the table and made their way to the drinks station, deep in muttered conversation.

  Dane smiled over to Ferne. “She’s coming on alright, isn’t she?”

  “Looks to be. Her hair is lighter and there isn’t so much of it, but she looks the same. Can’t believe we have another eight years to wait.”

  “The last nine haven’t been too bad,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Think those two are okay?”

  Ferne watched them come back towards their table. “Yeah. Better they know. I couldn’t keep this from them another year, Dane. They’re old enough to know now.”

  Enya and Zander took their seats as Ferne took a large gulp of wine. “Okay, any questions?”

  “Some.”

  “Okay, anything you want to know, now’s the time to get your answer,” Dane offered.

  Enya went first. “How long have you been hiding her?”

  “Just over nine years,” Dane answered honestly. “We found her in a hospital, put her into foster care with a half Druid Elian knows, and we’re keeping her safe until she turns eighteen.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Enya continued.

  Dane looked to Ferne for her to answer. “Because we didn’t want to confuse you and couldn’t risk you approaching her.”

  “When can we speak to her?” Zander asked, looking between Ferne and Dane.

  “Not until she’s eighteen, and we’ll have to be very careful how we approach her. She’s human. She won’t know anything about us. If she chooses not to have anything to do with us, then we’ll have to respect that.”

  “So what’s the point?” Enya demanded in a low hiss.

  Ferne refilled her glass as the server returned to take their orders. They hadn’t so much as looked at a menu yet so Dane ordered a selection to get rid of her quickly.

  “The point, Enya, is that your father, Dane, and I want her back.”

  “Enya, shut up. It’s her! Look at her; she has her nose and everything.”

  Enya followed her brother’s gaze to the child enjoying her birthday with her friends. It was her; there was no denying it. “How do we get her back?”

  “No idea,” Dane said brightly. “It’ll probably involve copious amounts of alcohol and Callan, just like the first time they met, and we’ll take it from there.”

  Enya giggled. “You’re setting them up?”

  “Why not? It isn’t exactly a blind date. They’ve done it before.”

  Enya cringed.

  Zander laughed. “So, we wait for her to be eighteen?”

  “Yeah. I know it’s a long wait,” Ferne said softly, “but it has to be her choice, and she has to be old enough to make it.”

  Nodding, Zander looked to Enya. “I told you she was still here.”

  Enya didn’t smile. Instead, she reached into her
pocket for her phone and said, “Yeah, well, nobody likes a smart arse.”

  They ate in silence, watching the birthday girl at the tables opposite as she opened her presents and ate with her friends.

  “Does Dad know?” Enya asked, wiping her fingers with a napkin.

  “Of course he does,” Ferne gasped. “You don’t think we’d keep something like this secret from him, do you?”

  Enya shrugged. “Dunno. I know what he’s like.”

  “That isn’t fair,” Zander snapped. “He’s done alright.”

  Enya rolled her eyes.

  Dane waved a hand to get the server’s attention. When they came over, he ordered himself another beer, Ferne a second bottle of wine, and their table was cleared. “He’s trying to protect you.”

  “He’s overbearing. You don’t know; you don’t have kids.”

  “Bloody glad of it, watching you two terrorise the poor bloke,” he snorted. “Look, he knows and is staying well clear. He won’t even look at her until she’s the same age she was when they first met. He doesn’t mind you knowing about her, seeing her, but we mustn’t approach her.”

  Glaring at Dane with derision, Enya pulled out her phone again. He chuckled as Ferne ground her teeth. “I’ll be bloody glad to have her back. She missed all this good stuff.”

  *****

  Callan was in the kitchen reading through a pile of papers he’d obviously brought from the palace when Dane appeared in the hallway.

  “Through here,” he said, draining his mug.

  “Working from home again?” he asked, hopping up and sitting on the countertop close to the door. “Don’t you feel a bit, well, cut off?”

  Callan shook his head. “Nope. Not when it’s this stuff.”

  Dane cocked his head and he explained, “The moonstone. There’s a very good chance that her memories are locked in there. I have to find a way to get the stone close to her body. I’ve had a replica of the original bracelet made.”

  He held it up, the stone glinting as it caught the light from the window and Dane smiled.

  “We’re going out tonight. Club. You’re coming.”

  His heels beating a tattoo on the cupboard door, Dane stared him down.

  “I don’t go to clubs, Dane,” Callan sighed, dumping his empty mug in the sink. “I need to be here for the children anyway.”

  He barked a laugh. “The children, Callan, are adults. They don’t need a full-time parent any more. Where are they anyway?” he asked, leaning forward to peer out into the empty hallway. The house was silent.

  Callan rubbed the back of his head and said, “Enya is with friends. She said something about a party somewhere. Zander is working with Elian, Konrad, and Anton.”

  “So, you’re here alone again, all weekend?” Dane asked, brows raised. “I need your help with something. I need you to come with me.”

  Callan frowned. After a short pause, he appeared to work it out and said, “Fine, I’ll come.”

  Springing to the floor, Dane grinned. “Okay, then. We’ll pick you up at nine.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “All of us. I think it’s about time, mate, and we all want to be there.”

  Thirty-four

  Carefully tracing the edge of her eyelid, Charlotte held her breath as she concentrated on keeping her hand steady. Just as she’d completed the tail of the line, her phone beeped. Glancing at the screen, she sighed and turned it face down on the table.

  Ignoring it, she peered at her reflection as she become lost in her thoughts.

  It beeped again. With a frustrated click of her tongue, she tentatively turned it back over and looked at the screen.

  She answered, I’ll be there for six, nearly ready, before dropping the phone into her open bag.

  With one last check of her makeup, she left the mirror and considered what to wear. Her new jeans, red off-the-shoulder top, and heels would be more comfortable than a dress, she thought as she picked through her wardrobe. Decision made, she changed and pulled her long hair into a messy bun.

  Leaving the room, she caught a glimpse of herself as she passed the mirror, frowning at the purple bruise on her arm. Shrugging on a jacket to hide it, she told herself sternly, “Okay. I’m well rid; he isn’t coming back. Time to have a good night with friends. I’ve done enough moping.”

  Flashing herself a smile, she grabbed her bag and strode out the door.

  It wasn’t far from her flat to town, a journey she made several times a day sometimes, but she felt inexplicably nervous as she walked. Her stomach fluttered, anticipation gnawing at her and making her flinch at normal, mundane sounds. A car door slamming, people walking behind her, a dog barking inside a house as she passed: all set her on edge. In a subconscious bid to shield herself, she fastened her jacket up to her neck and clutched her bag tighter.

  Stopping at a crossroads, she looked hesitantly up and down the intersecting roads and muttered under her breath, “Come on, Charlotte; what’s got you so spooked?”

  Crossing the empty road, she focused on the click of her heels on the pavement, relaxing into the steady beat of her own footsteps, each taking her to the safety of her friends.

  As houses gave way to shops, she relaxed a little more. Meeting at their local bar on the edge of the town centre was their usual Friday night ritual. Meet there, move on as a group. Any late arrivals would catch up.

  The sign attached to the wall of the pub swung in the light breeze, creaking on its hinges as she passed beneath. Skirting around a group of people outside, she smiled weakly and pushed her way through the stiff double doors.

  “Lolly!” Harvey greeted her with a hug as she found her friends at their table. “Pint?”

  “No!” she laughed, taking her seat. “I’ll have a bottle. Cheers.”

  Shrugging out of her jacket, she smiled to see Emily returning from the toilet.

  “You made it!” she grinned, clearly surprised.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Yes, I made it. I missed one night, Em.”

  “Yeah, well,” she said, sitting down, “it was enough. It’s not the same without you.”

  “Back to normal now, minus that prick and his issues,” she said as Harvey handed her a bottle over the table. “Thanks, Harv. I’ll get the next round.”

  “No need. Glad you’re okay,” he said, heading to the pool table to join Rory.

  Emily sipped her drink, frowning at the deep purple mark on her arm. “What happened?”

  “He got angry and grabbed me a bit hard, that’s all. I’ve had worse at work.”

  “How was work?” Emily asked, steering the conversation away from her recent breakup.

  “Usual. Families kicking off, trying to get everyone drugged, fed, and watered with a brush up my arse as I went. Seriously, we need more auxiliaries.”

  Emily giggled. “Who was supervising?”

  “Cass. She’s been on all day.” She took a long drink, closing her eyes. “Oh, she said she’ll be late and she’s bringing her new team member with her,” she recalled, draining her bottle.

  “Oh, wonder how long this one’s going to last.”

  Charlotte shrugged and sighed. “Who knows. Depends how many times they’re pissed on in the first week. Another?” she asked, heading to the bar.

  Three drinks later, it was time to move on. Harvey draped an arm over her shoulders as they made their way closer to the town centre. “You really okay, Charlotte?” They’d all been worried when she missed their night out the previous week.

  “Yep,” she grinned up at him. “I’m great. Back to normal now.”

  He gave her a lopsided smile and squeezed her shoulders. “Cass should meet us in here.”

  The pub was already busy and they made their way to a long table at the back of the room. Cass was waiting with the new girl, and Charlotte offered her a welcoming smile as they were introduced.

  “Charlotte, I’m putting Ferne on your team from Monday. She’s replacing that useless lump,” Cass said, chugg
ing her drink and pouring another from the pitcher on the table.

  “Great! I might get the odd toilet break from now on! You worked in nursing before, Ferne?”

  She was older, probably mid-twenties, and stunning. She wore her golden hair like a crown, piled on top of her head in a neat braid. Her perfect, pretty face beamed as she answered, “Yeah, I’ve done all sorts of stuff, but always seem to come back to it. Never worked in a hospital though.”

  “I’m a student, but I work bank shifts on auxiliary when I can.”

  Ferne nodded her understanding as Harvey arrived from the bar with Emily and Rory. Each carried a pitcher of cocktails and glasses, laying them out on the table. Helping herself, Charlotte sat beside Ferne and removed her jacket.

  “Oooh wow,” Ferne gasped, gripping Charlotte’s wrist. “I have the same one, how weird is that?!” She waved her own arm to confirm.

  “This was custom… that’s really weird,” Charlotte agreed, puzzled.

  Looking at Ferne again, she felt an odd sensation in her stomach, an excited flutter that caught her off guard. Shrugging it off, she sipped her drink and drew Rory into a conversation about work.

  Another round of pitchers later, they moved on. Ferne made a grab for Charlotte as they stepped through the doors, linking arms, and sashaying along the high-street. “Do you have a boyfriend?” she asked brightly as they approached the next bar.

  “No. Kicked one out last week,” she said with a sad smile.

  Ferne nodded her head slowly, before shrugging and saying cheerfully, “Oh well. It’s always a better night without a bloke hanging around, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is,” Charlotte agreed with a grin.

  They were first into the nightclub, claiming their usual seating area in a quieter corner away from the dancefloor. Charlotte and Ferne made their way back from the bar together, negotiating their way through the growing crowd.

  “Who’re you looking for?” Charlotte hollered over the music.