The fear caused by these new circumstances gripped Sam violently, and hyperventilating slightly, he bolted for his room. Once inside, he locked the door behind him and leaped under his blankets. He huddled in the dark and shielding comfort that he found there, wishing that the sense of security they brought him was real, and not imagined. He also threw his walls up as thick as Francis normally did lately, and ignored all the knocking that came from the others. He wanted to feel like he was alone now, and safe as a result. If he could pretend that there were no threats to him, then he would not need anyone else.
* - * - *
On a day-to-day basis, things did not change much, but gradually, over the next two years, they got worse rather than better. Francis and Royce clashed on a regular basis, on the odd occasion that Royce bothered to come home at all, and the results involved some violence, usually on Royce’s part, more often than not.
Royce’s bullying of Sam worsened as well. He stopped making any artificial show of tolerance towards the smaller boy, and if Sam happened to be unfortunate enough to cross his path, he would usually have to run away in order to avoid any rough treatment. The Finder took to skulking through the backwoods when he had a choice, and as much as he liked the beach, he avoided it because of the lack of cover there.
Sarah, Fiona, and Nathan did not suffer to the same extent, but there was a general unease in their home, a sense of misery and hopelessness that hung over all of its inhabitants.
On the days following any storms, Fiona, Sam, and Sarah would all go out to scour the beach together, travelling in numbers in hopes that this might lend more security to their Finder. Sarah did not serve much purpose on these outings other than company, but Sam was still grateful to have her there. He was worried nonetheless. Running into Royce alone might not be a problem for the three of them, but if they encountered the five Controls that sometimes gathered there and the Unconnected Bigs decided to rid themselves of the perceived nuisance, there would be no contest. Two Littles and a female Big with only a moderate physical presence could never offer any real resistance to the threat that those five would pose.
They remained on edge while they searched, and they usually would not have to go far if there was nothing there to find. Sam could tell them within the first five minutes one way or the other, and on the days that there was nothing, they would return home both disappointed and relieved.
On five separate occasions, however, Sam was sure that he would find something there from Elliot, and they were forced to carefully make their way down the beach, keeping a constant lookout for danger. As if his own fear were not enough to deal with, Sam could feel Sarah’s anxiety wash over him as well, and he gripped her small hand tightly, knowing it would not make any difference but finding the contact soothing despite this.
The first two times that they found the messages, there had been no sign of Royce whatsoever, and they recovered the little orange containers without incident. With the box happily tucked away in Sam’s pocket, the three rushed back to the house to see what Elliot had to say. There were a few more details, but little in the way of progress suggested by the technician.
The first note had said that Elliot managed to obtain the name of the magical device that he was trying to steal and bring to them. He referred to it as the Languorite, and while knowing this would not help him gain access to the tool, it did let him know what to look for when scrounging for more information on the item. Elliot also said that he had managed to get a hold of a selection of the scholars’ notes on the Languorite for a scant few moments and had scanned them as quickly as he could. The only new detail that he had picked up from them was that the device drew its magic from those around it passively, and that most of its effects were always active and persistent. There had been a couple of important exceptions, but Elliot had been forced to abandon his investigation at that point and flee in order to avoid getting caught. He had too much invested in making good on his promise to help the children of Fervor to risk being discovered.
The second note was somewhat apologetic. Elliot explained that he had not been as creative as he would have liked to have been, and had failed to get anymore information from the scholars. He did claim some success, however. As a technician, he had access to the blueprints of all the facilities on the mainland, and since he had assisted in the construction of the Languorite, he knew where it was being kept. He had gotten copies of the blueprints for that particular building in hopes that he could find a way in past security to gain access to the device. His note took on an air of despair from that point onwards, and he had obviously been discouraged by what he had found in those blueprints. He no longer seemed confident that he would achieve his objective, suggesting what needed to be done would surely require the efforts of more than a solitary man. He still asked them not to give up hope, and that he would definitely keep trying for their sake.
On their third venture to the beach that resulted in a find from Elliot, they did catch sight of Royce from a distance, and he them, but he was alone at the time. Much to their satisfaction, he chose to keep his distance from the threesome. They retrieved the orange box and made it back to the house safely with their treasure.
That message had been very brief, and Elliot had not offered anything new for them. He told them that he just wanted to let them know that he had not forgotten them, and that he was working on gathering equipment to help him break into the facility where the Languorite was being kept. He indicated that it was a very slow process. He did not have easy access to the resources that he needed, and he certainly did not have the manpower, but that would not stop him. He would find a way – somehow.
On their fourth successful trip to the beach, as they headed in the direction that Sam had guaranteed would lead them to the newest note from Elliot, Nathan had come across them just before they reached their prize. The day was quite grey and gloomy, and the Watcher approached them with a curious look.
“Hey! What are you all doing so far from home?” He wouldn’t have been surprised to find Sam there on his own, looking for some good find. But he knew the small boy did not need Fiona’s help to retrieve anything from the beach, and there was absolutely no call for Sarah to come along under any circumstances. It was also hardly the type of day that would prompt a casual stroll along the shore.
Sam shot Fiona a nervous look. She always seemed to be able to come up with a convincing reply, especially where Nathan was involved.
“Sam doesn’t like to come to the beach on his own anymore. Ever since Royce started fighting with Francis and made it clear that he doesn’t plan on taking orders from him, Sam doesn’t feel safe,” she suggested.
Sam nodded. Despite the inability to lie, it always amazed him how she managed to come up with answers that obscured a part of the truth. Neither he nor Sarah had mastered that skill.
“He asked me to come with him, but Francis wasn’t at the house, and you know that I don’t like to leave Sarah there by herself, so we brought her with us.”
“Well that makes perfect sense. You happen to be right on the path of my circuit now. Do you mind if I walk with you? I like the company,” the older boy stated.
This request actually presented Fiona with a bigger problem. She really did mind, but she did not want Nathan knowing that. How then to agree to his request without lying, or to dissuade him so that it would not be an issue? This time it was the older girl’s turn to fidget uncomfortably. Sam came to her rescue.
“I’ll be glad to have you with us,” Sam told him.
He really meant it. Ever since Royce and Francis had started fighting, he was happy to have Nathan around whenever he could. It would delay things, and Sam would have to endure the horrible burning itch of passing the thing that he felt compelled to find, but it wasn’t something that he would object to. Nathan had been quick to dismiss the first little orange container that he had seen as a meaningless trinket, but laying eyes upon a second one would surely generate some suspicion.
; When his circuit finally drew the Watcher away from the beach again, they quickly made their way back to Elliot’s message.
The fourth message said that the technician was finally making some advances on his plans, and that he was now in the process of hunting down a long-distance hover. He would need one in order to make the trek out to Fervor if and when he managed to get his hands on the Languorite. He still wasn’t prepared to make any guarantees, but there was a renewed eagerness in Elliot’s words, as if things had been going better than expected lately.
By the time they were done reading his letter, all three of them were twitching with excitement, so much so that when Francis arrived back at the house, he watched them for some time with suspicion. Since there did not seem to be any obvious reason for their buoyant mood on such a gloomy day, the Teller had good reason to wonder exactly what the three were up to.
The fifth and final message during that two year stretch came after a particularly violent storm shook Fervor with driving rain and fierce winds. When they headed out that day, before they had even reached the beach proper, Sam had been convinced that they would find something. Because he was so obsessed with finding the message that day, he had forgotten himself, thrown caution to the wind, and charged ahead of the girls. The box was half buried in the sand, and the small boy flung himself to his knees and started digging enthusiastically.
“Stop! Stop!” Sarah’s familiar forceful push echoed urgently through his mind. “Stop, Sam, please!”
Sam knew that tone, and she had not bothered to knock. Something was wrong. He glanced up. Sarah and Fiona stood behind him and facing the opposite direction – in front of them stood Royce, and his four Control cohorts.
“He says they’ve seen us down here before, and that they know that something’s going on,” Sarah relayed. “He says they want to know what we’re up to, and that if we don’t tell them what they want to know, they’ll be forced to beat it out of us.”
Sam raised his gaze to where Royce loomed before them. The black-haired boy smirked down at him with malevolence gleaming in his brown eyes.
.
Storm
“Sam? Sam, what are we going to do? We can’t tell him. It will ruin everything,” Fiona demanded, expecting her Finder to offer a solution.
Getting beaten to a bloody pulp will ruin everything, too,” Sarah added, her thoughts panicky. “We should call for Nathan.”
“Nathan may not get here in time, and if we involve him, he may find out what we’re doing instead of Royce knowing,” the older girl countered. “I don’t think that we should call him.”
Sam was thankful that they had the one advantage over Royce and his cohorts that allowed them to discuss their circumstances without the Controls listening in. That still left them with the current dilemma before them. This got Sam thinking. There were other differences with the Controls that could prove to be useful.
“I know we’ve gotten out of the habit, but we have to lie. Can either of you come up with a good story?” Sam asked.
At this point, Royce was growing impatient. He reached down and grabbed Sarah by the wrist, and then lifted her into the air. She squealed, kicking and flailing about.
“Just do something!” she thought desperately. The black-haired boy tightened his grip and she whimpered in pain as her struggling lessened.
“Don’t hurt our Fixer!” Fiona protested. “We need her!”
“Sam, he said that you may need me, but that I can’t fix him, so what does he care what he does to me. Then he said to answer his question or he’ll break me so that I can’t be fixed,” the smaller girl whined internally. Sam knew that she was crying despite the fact that her face was mostly obscured by her dark hair, and he could tell that the larger boy’s forceful grip was causing her a fair amount of pain. He had to come up with something convincing and fast.
“Fiona, tell him that we are trying to find a way around the Directives and that we come down here to discuss things away from Francis and Nathan. He doesn’t like either of them, and I think at this point he hates Francis even more than he does me. Beg him not to tell Francis and say it like you mean it.” Sam offered, hoping that, if nothing else, it would at least buy them some time.
The older girl did as he asked and the three waited anxiously for Royce’s response. The Control turned to discuss the situation with his cohorts, and while they were distracted, Sam carefully felt around behind him until his fingers settled upon the shallowly-covered little box. With a few sharp tugs, he pulled it free and slipped it into his pocket.
Moments later, Royce turned back to face them again. He dropped Sarah into the sand in a careless manner. With exaggerated urgency, she crawled blindly towards Sam, not stopping until she had made contact with her small friend.
“Royce said that we can plot against the ego-maniac all we want, but not in his territory. He claims that from now on this part of the beach is reserved for him and his friends, and that he doesn’t consider us his friends,” she reported, her mind still frantic, but her fear beginning to lessen. She was still in pain however, and was rubbing at her wrist, wanting to heal the large bruises there, but not in the right mindset to concentrate properly.
“Tell him that we’re going,” Sam insisted. “Tell him that we won’t bother him here again.”
“But the message...” she thought plaintively.
“I’ve got it,” he informed her. “Let’s just go, before he changes his mind.”
The three hurried away, thankful to have escaped Royce’s clutches with minimal damage, and eager to see what Elliot had to say. Sarah did not even bother to ask the other two to stop long enough to allow her to repair her wrist. They scrambled back into the house, rushing past Francis towards Fiona’s room.
“Wait!” the Teller commanded. They all lurched to an involuntary stop, as if someone had looped an invisible lasso over their heads and the rope had suddenly pulled taut.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Sarah thought miserably. Sam and Fiona glanced tensely at Francis, wondering if somehow he knew about Elliot’s message.
“What happened to you?” the Teller demanded, putting one hand on the petite girl’s shoulder and reaching for her arm. “How did you do this? And why haven’t you fixed it yet?”
“It was Royce,” Sam admitted. He didn’t see any harm in pitting the two Bigs against one another. There was already some conflict there. Why not use it to get them both out of their hair?
He felt a gentle knock from Sarah, and he let her in, blocking out Francis and Fiona.
“Don’t do this, Sam,” she begged. “There are already enough problems between Royce and Francis. Don’t make this worse.”
“What else do you want me to tell him,” Sam snapped. “It’s not like we can lie to him.”
“I want to tell him the whole truth,” Sarah stated. “Please, I think it would work in our favour. He’ll help us if he knows what’s going on.”
“We don’t have that much to gain by sharing this with him, and we have an awful lot to lose,” Sam pointed out. “Besides, Fiona would never agree to it, and we really do need her help.”
“But Sam....” He didn’t let her finish. He shook her free from his thoughts and focussed his own mind at Francis.
“Royce was meeting with those other Controls again. He told us that we weren’t allowed on that part of the beach, that it was his territory. He picked Sarah up by her wrist and threatened to break her so that she couldn’t be fixed.”
No lies. All true. And just like that, they were off the hook. Francis frowned and covered his mouth with his hand, before turning silently and walking off into the kitchen.
“What have you done, Sam?” Sarah exclaimed angrily, pushing at him quite vehemently. “He didn’t need to know that. This is going to cause trouble beyond anything that would have happened if we had let Francis in on our secret. Why won’t you trust him? Why won’t you trust my instincts?”
“You are too naive, Sarah. You are willing to
believe that everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt,” he retorted. “We have to protect ourselves. We have to protect Elliot.”
Fiona knocked loudly, frowning at them from the doorway of her room. When they opened their minds to her, she chastised them.
“Quit bickering like preschoolers and get in here. I want to see that message. Don’t you?”
Sam nodded and jogged past her into the room. Sarah followed with Fiona’s guidance, somewhat reluctantly.
The message was different from the others. While they were sure that it had still come from Eliot, his handwriting was messier and less controlled than his prior notes. The scrawl seemed rushed and excited.
“This will be my last message for some time. I’m being relocated for my work, but it will bring me much closer to the Languorite. In addition to letting me study the facility where it is being kept firsthand, it will also allow me the possible opportunity to review more of the scholars’ notes and get more answers on how exactly the Languorite works and what it can do. I think that I have a lead on a long distance hover, one that can get me from the coast of the mainland to Fervor. I’ll need one if I succeed in stealing the device so that I can bring it to you. It won’t be soon. It could take me a year or more, but I believe more than ever that this can happen. Keep an eye out. If I fail, and I remain free, I will send another message. Then again, the next time that you hear from me, you may be encountering me in person. Keep your fingers crossed, and keep hopeful. E.”
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