It made his skin crawl.
It was different from what he had experienced in his cell. The music didn’t just play to soothe him anymore. Now, it was calling him. He could feel it, like one of Ian’s bands of energy. It was reaching out and pulling him toward itself, and that change made him anxious.
He stood up and went to the doors that opened onto a small, personal balcony, because what called him wasn’t in the house, it was there, in the mountains. His room happened to be one that faced up into the hills, as opposed to the master bedrooms that provided a view of the capital far below. Outside, he let his hand rest on the railing and stared in the right direction, trying to see the power which he knew was there. For the first time since he started perceiving the flow of power with his eyes, he couldn’t see a thing.
It was soft, like feathers or laughter...
He blinked, and caught himself leaning forward toward the mountains. He backed into the room and closed the doors. Then he locked them.
He sat on the bed and listened to his heart race.
Laughter that ran up and down and then skipped playfully...
He blinked and found himself on the balcony again, staring out at the mountains. He formed his power into a shield and tried to make it as strong as possible. Shields weren’t his specialty, but what he could do had always been enough for him in the past.
Maybe he should just go and check it out...just to see…
Feathers that ran across his skin, tickling...
He blinked. What was he thinking? He shook his head. Something was wrong. His shield was having no effect.
He had to get out of there.
He picked up his clothes and put them on. Then he grabbed his small bag and went to the kitchen. He pulled the keys off the hook by the light switch.
“What’s the matter?” Heron asked from behind. The Kin's eyes widened when Scythe turned with a start because he hadn't noticed him. It alarmed Scythe, too.
“I’m hearing music and I have to go,” Scythe said, realizing that it probably sounded insane. No, it definitely sounded insane. “I know it sounds crazy, Heron, but there is someone with power here, up in the mountains, and they are…” How could he explain it?
“Are what?” He turned on the light, his eyes taking in the car keys.
“It’s just...the music is calling me and I keep catching myself thinking about going there.”
“You’re right. It sounds delusional. Why don’t you tell me…”
A sweet melody that made you smile, not because it did anything spectacular, but because it existed, because it was perfect...
Scythe blinked. He was standing on the balcony again. This time an anxious Heron was right next to him.
“It’s calling me,” Scythe said softly and urgently, “and I need to get down the mountain and away from it. Now. Can I take your car?”
“Of course,” Heron said. “I want you to call me tomorrow. I’ll give you the number.”
He went to the study and wrote the number on a sheet of paper. Then he said thoughtfully, “Maybe I should drive you...”
“No. It’s okay. I’ll be okay once I get some distance. It wasn’t as bad before.”
“You heard it before?”
Scythe nodded. He was almost to the car.
“Do you need directions?”
“No, I remember.”
“Okay. Don’t forget to call.”
“I won’t. Thank you, Heron.”
“Fare well, Scythe.”
Scythe got into the car, backed it out of the driveway and took to the road, driving as fast as was safe.
A few minutes later, he caught himself listening again. He grit his teeth. Why was the music getting stronger? It was pulling on him like it had done on the balcony, and he had almost been lost in it again.
He slammed on the breaks. He had accidentally gone the wrong way! He was heading toward it. He took a deep breath, cleared his head, and turned the car around so that he was heading away from the mountains and toward Quo Ire. Within ten minutes, he noticed a difference. The music was still loud, but it didn’t pull on him as much. Within twenty, it was significantly softer and he started to relax.
At the first opportunity, he would call Heron and tell him that he was okay. The man would be worried until he did, Scythe knew. After all, he had acted like a madman.
Within an hour, he was feeling fine; he was even a little embarrassed about how he had acted. He was heading in the right direction, and the music was almost gone. He didn’t feel any strong desire to do anything except get down the mountain and find a phone, but he hadn’t passed any buildings in a while, so it would have to wait.
He let out a hefty sigh of relief. Well, the emergency was behind him, if it had been an emergency at all. It started to seem like a weird dream, something that wouldn’t have happened during the day.
He was about to pass a small building on the right, and he looked to see if there might be a phone there, but it looked abandoned, so he passed it up. There would be many places once he got out of the foothills.
He yawned, and his ears popped. Then he frowned, thinking back. On their way to Heron’s retreat, they had passed the last little town about fifteen minutes before they pulled onto the street Heron lived on. There had also been more small towns before that one, dotted along the foothills on their way up. He should have driven through at least one of them by now.
Well, it was dark, and he was going very slowly. That was why it was taking so long to get down the mountain. He didn’t mind taking more time, as long as he was headed in the right direction. Besides, there was no other way to navigate on that dirt road. He had the high beams on and was concentrating on maneuvering through the dense brush. The trees were taking swipes at the car, brushing against it on both sides. One long, pointy branch screeched all the way across the top of the car, gouging the paint and what sounded like a good portion of the metal on the roof. Heron was going to hate having his car all scratched up.
Scratches?
He stopped the car. Heron had not driven through woods like this. His shiny, new car didn’t have a scratch on it. Neither had they taken even one dirt road on their way to his house.
His hands were shaking as he pulled the key out of the ignition. He was not going any farther. He got out of the car, just to keep himself from driving.
Scythe listened to his breath heave in and out of his chest and watched the cold air form small puffy clouds in front of his face. He looked around. He was lost in a thick, forested area. Around him steep cliffs stretched upward, and behind them the tips of high mountains looked down on him. His car was parked at a dead end, its headlights lighting up the blank face of a rock wall.
He was freezing and feverish at the same time, trembling from the cold and sweating and breathing in great gasps. This...this was what it was like to be on the other side...
The music, which had left him not one but three hours ago, began to pour thickly from the heart of power that played it, a source so close that he could be standing on it. It rose like an immense tidal wave, arced over him until it made up the sky, reached down behind him, enclosing him in a glorious, resonant dome, and then crashed triumphantly down upon him.
Chapter 33
“Mercy. Mercy was the one.”
Scythe nodded and waited while Heron pinched his eyes together. He was glad to give the man time to collect himself. He didn’t think it was a bad idea for him to take a little breather as well. He had gotten a little worked up a few minutes ago, and had gone a little farther than he should have with his old friend. Finding out about Heron’s involvement in Mercy’s kidnapping had caught him by surprise and he had let himself get angrier than he liked. It was still hard to believe that he had so poorly judged the man…
Heron had turned her over to a rapist just days after taking one look at Mercy’s bullet ridden vest and directing a harsh, accusing glare at Scythe and her father. That stare had set Scythe’s mind at ease, had let him leave them
alone in Heron’s home when the police came for him, had kept him from doing more to keep them safe. That genuinely protective, appalled look had convinced him that the man would look out for them. Nothing about it had been fake and it told him that Heron wasn’t just a man who was raised by a good family, he was also a doctor, a man who valued life, who lived by a code of ethics. So, what had caused him to turn his back on that and place her in the hands of the terrorists? His uncle? Was the man that compelling?
Heron interrupted his thoughts, “Mercy...She’s not just your heart’s choice. It’s like she’s your...philosophy.”
My philosophy? Scythe turned the idea over in his head. Mercy. “You’re...I guess you’re right.”
He really liked the idea.
Scythe asked, “What makes you think that we are wed?”
“I just assumed. You...you aren’t, then?”
“No.”
“That’s odd.”
“Why?”
“Well, it looked to me like it was long done…”
Scythe smiled. First Temper, now him. He hadn’t even known himself, but they had known.
“You wanted to talk to me.”
Scythe nodded. Yes, he did want to talk to him. He had to ask for a favor, and, because of the nature of that favor, he was going to have to do something to his old friend that he didn’t want to do.
-----------
Their truck swerved to the right, and Mercy’s hand reflexively flew to the door, “Whoa, there.” She glanced over at Jaelyn in the driver's seat, but the woman didn’t comment.
“Mercy,” Jaelyn said, her eyes on the road ahead of them, “I wanted you to ride with me because there is a thing I would talk to you about.”
“Really?” Mercy asked, excited that the charismatic woman had singled her out for something. “What is it?”
“First, your power is significant, the greatest of those that we now travel with.”
“Uh, that is really nice of you to say, but my father and Aunt Lena are way more powerful than I am.”
“That is not true. You are the strongest.” She spoke with a blunt certainty.
Mercy squirmed a little in her seat uncomfortably, she didn’t like being compared to two people that she had always admired and regarded as vastly superior to her.
“Although I admire your humility, it can lead to faulty assumptions, and such ignorance can be dangerous to others. You require the level of training that matches your abilities. Right now, there is no one to give you what you need. I would like offer my services as a teacher to you.”
“What do you mean, ‘dangerous to others’?” Mercy wondered if the woman knew about her recent problems with control...
“One aspect of your power is unchecked and it endangers the people that are close to you. If you were to find yourself in proximity of someone in a weakened state, you might injure them. You might even kill them, without meaning to.”
“Jaelyn, that happened to me, less than a month ago.” Had she seen it? Or, since it was obvious she had incredible power, had she taken it out of her mind? Then she thought, Does it matter? Jaelyn was someone she could trust with everything, after all.
“It is unfortunate that I could not instruct you sooner; I am sure that such an experience was hard on you. However, Mercy, life holds many opportunities for redemption as well as for temptation and miscalculation. Be patient with yourself, and within the flow of time, I believe you will find the chance, perhaps very soon, to do something life affirming that will soften the blow that your sin has struck to your spirit. Is that something you desire?”
“To...what?...redeem myself?” Now she was sure the woman could read her mind, but she didn’t know how, because she had never felt her do it. Could someone read her mind without her even knowing it? Did she have something like Cord or Scythe’s ability?...
The truck swerved, and Mercy laid her hand on the door to steady herself, “Whoa.” She looked over at Jaelyn, but the woman was unruffled, driving along as if nothing had happened.
“Will you, Mercy?”
She quickly tried to remember what they were talking about, but she couldn't. She was embarrassed at how rude she was. “Will I what?”
“Will you take the opportunity, when it is given to you, to help another?”
“Yes, of course. I always try to help people, if I can.”
“As long as it is convenient.”
That startled her. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there are many in need through the bordertowns. You pass them by easily enough.”
“That’s true, but I can’t help...I’m not always in a position to help everyone…”
“Have you helped any, recently?”
“Um, no. I guess not.” She blushed, thinking of the many destitute people she and Cord had ignored on their recent journey. Then a sharper sensation wormed its way into her thoughts: the image of a crying baby. She sucked in a breath and blinked, looking out of the window. “No. None at all.”
“However, if you were given the chance to help someone in need, you would take it. Isn’t that correct, Mercy?”
“Yes, if I could.”
“Even if it meant you would have to risk yourself in some way?”
That was a no brainer. “Of course.”
“Even if you had to give your life?”
Mercy frowned at the woman next to her. Give her life? What type of a situation was she talking about? How could giving her life help someone? Her immediate thought was that her death would have the opposite result on the people she loved. Mercy knew that if she died, it would bring a lot of pain to her family, just like the thought of her brother’s death had been so shattering to her. “What is this about?”
The truck swerved suddenly, and Mercy laid her hand on the door to steady herself, “Whoa.” She looked over at Jaelyn, but the woman kept driving and talking as if nothing had happened. Mercy brought her fingers up to rub her temple; she was getting a bit of a headache.
“You said that you would like to dedicate your life to helping others, so...what if you could give your life, for another? Would you do that?”
Mercy tried to remember when she had told Jaelyn the very things that she had decided, and couldn’t. She shook her head, thinking that she must have forgotten. Yes, she must have forgotten, because obviously the woman knew about them.
“Um, well, maybe.”
“I think you would.”
“You do?”
“Yes, because your strong character and sense of duty is formidable. You are a person of conviction. You will do the right thing, when it comes down to it, Mercy. That is an admirable trait.”
“Well, thank you, for that compliment.” She had been raised to believe that it was right to give of yourself. She guessed it could also be right to give yourself. Heaven knew, she had taken enough from others. Stolen enough.
Jaelyn nodded to herself and mumbled a small word under her breath. Suddenly feeling a compulsion to share her determination, Mercy risked interrupting the woman's thoughts.
“Yes, I would. I would give my life to save someone else.”
A creepy thing happened as soon as she finished speaking: her words hung in the air. She couldn’t see them, or hear them, but they were there. Then, instead of floating away, they returned to her, soaked into her skin and bound themselves to her.
“What…” she choked out. “What was that?”
When the truck swerved, Mercy laid her hand on the door to steady herself. It didn’t help her headache one bit; in fact, it seemed to make it worse. “Ugh.” She looked over at Jaelyn, who apologized.
“Sorry, dear. Are you amenable to my offer, then?” She seemed very excited at the idea.
“Offer?”
“To teach you.” She wasn’t offended at all that Mercy had spaced out in the middle of their conversation.
“Yes, if you can show me how to control my power, I would be so grateful.” It seemed like a miracle that she would so clearly und
erstand exactly what Mercy needed, and at just the right time. She was an amazing woman. The possibility of easing the burden that she carried by helping others in some life affirming way was something that she hesitantly allowed herself to hope for.
“Good. You have made a wise choice. Let us begin. Can you feel the connection with me, right now?”
“Yes, it is strange, though, not like the others.”
“That is because I can shield myself completely from you. I believe that no one else you have been in contact with is doing this. Am I right?”
“No. They are not even aware of it, even though I am drawing on their power.”
“It is an extremely delicate touch you have, with almost no power. Anyone would have trouble sensing it...”
“Not you, though.”
“No. I have no problem with it.” Jaelyn frowned just the tiniest bit.
Mercy realized that she might had gone too far with that statement. She should have known not to interrupt. Scythe, Smoke and Anora had taught her how to be an exemplary student. Because of their instruction, she knew that students needed to dedicate themselves to listening carefully to what their teacher said, and not think too much about their own ideas during the lesson. Her opinions and preconceptions could interfere with the information, keeping her from hearing everything or understanding it the way Jaelyn wanted her to. “Sorry. Please go on.”
“Thank you. What you must learn to do is control every bit of your power. You have already taken the first step. You are at least aware of the power funnels you are sending out.”
Power funnels. The expression exactly expressed how they were used: to funnel power back to herself. Jaelyn was just the right person to help her.
Jaelyn paused, waiting for some type of reaction, but Mercy didn’t know what she was supposed to say, so she kept quiet. Finally the woman sighed and said, “Unfortunately, such control would take you years. We will work together toward that, but in the meantime I will give you another skill that can protect those around you immediately.
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