“No, could you please just leave me alone!” She snapped. She regretted it instantly when she saw the wounded expression on his face, but he nodded and left the room. She heard him mumble, “sorry” in an embarrassed, sad sort of way. She felt even worst when she saw Jack glaring at her from the doorway. He had been standing outside.
“He was only trying to help you settle in,” Jack said angrily.
She sighed, “I was happy with Mags, I didn't ask to come here.”
“No, but that's not our fault. This is just the way it is and we've all got to make the best of it.”
She knew he was right but that just made him more annoying, “You wouldn't understand…”
She waved her hand at him dismissively, and felt tears threatening the back of her eyes, but when he crossed his arms and didn't move she said in frustration, “You wouldn't understand, you've lived with Kitto all your life, you don't know what it's like to be alone…”
She turned away from him and stared out of the window as tears spilled out. She took a moment to steel herself but when she turned back he had gone. She quickly closed the door and then threw herself on to her bed. She let some of her emotion spill forth in silent sobs; it was so unfair. She hated it, hated the stupid big house and her stupid big bedroom, and she hated her Gwithiaz with his posh car. She wanted to go back to the cottage where she was happy. She suddenly became aware of movement in the room and the sound of splintering glass, she raised her head and gasped. It seemed her frustrations had caused her to lose control of her magic. The contents of her bag were strewn all over the floor and the main light bulb had shattered over the carpet.
She groaned. All in all, it was a bad start.
Chapter Sixteen
Kiera quickly tidied away her clothes, and then spent a considerable amount of time picking up minute pieces of glass from the carpet. She knew it would've been easier to go and ask for a hoover, but decided she'd caused enough trouble for one day. It looked like it wasn't just the bulb that she'd broken; the whole light fitting had come away. It was definitely a conversation for another day.
She felt bad about her behaviour. If there was one thing dad had always been strict about it was manners, and today she had been rude and childish. The first thing she needed to do was apologise to Kitto. Jack was right, they were all in the same situation and had to make the best of it, so clearing the air with Kitto would be a good start.
She found him in the kitchen. He smiled at her as she entered, “Cup of tea? I've just boiled the kettle.”
She shook her head, but then remembered that she wanted to make amends, and so nodded, “Yes please.”
They were British; nothing could make peace the way tea could.
“I'm sorry for snapping at you,” she said as they made their way into the living room with their cups, “I'm just…it's all just a bit…”
She searched for the word but couldn't find one that wouldn't offend him. I don't want to be here.
“No need to apologise,” Kitto said amicably. Then he asked thoughtfully, “Have you ever heard of the Katutu flower?”
“No, but I'm not much of a gardener,” Kiera smiled, “despite Mags's best attempts to teach me.”
“Even if you were you wouldn't have heard of this plant,” he sank back into his chair and looked at the ceiling in a whimsical sort-of way, as though he were reminiscing, “it used to thrive here in ancient Cornwall. They were said to be imbued with magical properties and were used by the witches for spells. In fact the flower became a symbol for the witch, it grew wherever witches were found. The two were closely connected.”
“What happened to the plant?” Kiera asked.
“It went extinct,” Kitto explained, “and today no one has even heard of it. And the reason for its extinction was said to be loneliness. Can you believe it? When there was an abundance of witches the plant thrived, but then the Creature was born and the witch population dwindled and so did this beautiful flower. There was a connection between the witches and the flowers and the flowers couldn't survive when the witches were gone. By the time the last witch died there were but a couple left in the world and then they too wilted away,” he paused before continuing, “what I'm trying to say is that if a flower can feel loneliness, then think how much acuter a human being can feel it. I'm sorry you had to leave Mags, I'm sure you were very happy there and I want you to visit her as much as you can.”
Kiera nodded and broke into a smile, “Thank you. I'm thinking I should learn how to drive so if you know of any decent instructors, preferably with the patience of a saint, then I'm all ears.”
Kitto chuckled, “I'm sure you won't be that bad. Yes, I might know someone.”
“Where's Jack?” Kiera asked. “I think I owe him an apology too.”
“Jack's lived with me out here for the past twenty years,” Kitto winked at her, “he's pretty thick-skinned. He's not offended easily.”
“Does he have any other family?” Kiera leant forward interested.
Kitto shook his head, “Jack's family died when he was little. He grew up as an orphan.”
Kiera nodded and felt her heart sink. She definitely owed him an apology.
I told an orphan that he didn't know what it felt like to be alone. I am a terrible person.
“I'm an orphan too,” she said quietly after a pause.
“Something you have in common,” Kitto stood up and took her empty cup.
As he reached the doorway Kiera was struck by a thought, “How old is Jack? I thought you said he'd been here the last twenty years? He can't be much more than twenty years old can he?”
Kitto grinned, “Well, if there's one thing to be said about our line of work, it's that it keeps us young.”
She found Jack in a room that was tucked away downstairs and could only be reached through a small second living room at the rear of the house. He had turned the room into a workshop; there were tools neatly stacked away on one side of the room next to a workbench. On shelves next to it sat little wooden ornaments of varying shapes and design.
But what instantly caught her eye was the selection of weapons on the opposite side of the room, in particular a collection of guns and cases. Jack was holding one of the guns in his left hand as she entered. It lay across his knee and in his other hand he held a cleaning rag. He glanced up at her and then continued cleaning the barrel.
The sight of the guns made Kiera's stomach turn. The guy's job was protection so she supposed she should've expected weapons. She made her way over to him and tried not to stare nervously at the gun.
“So this is your man-cave then?” Kiera said smiling and trying to make conversation.
Jack seemed to force a smile in return, but he didn't answer. He was probably still annoyed about earlier.
“I'm sorry about what I said before,” she fiddled with her hair awkwardly, “I was snapping at people and I shouldn't have. I'm particularly sorry that I said you didn't know what it was like to be alone, that was stupid because I don't know you.”
Jack seemed to appreciate the gesture. At least she supposed he did because he nodded, “Okay thanks.”
He still wasn't smiling though. She cleared her throat as a way to break the silence and then looked about the room.
Jack watched her uneasily. This was his space and he wasn't keen on her being in it. But then he supposed he needed to get used to having her around. After all, it seemed they were stuck with each other. He saw the way she looked fearfully at the various weapons in the room. It was a collection that had grown over time. Kitto had wanted Jack to master the staff and, dutifully, he had done so. However, he had never been keen on the idea of coming up against an enemy with only a stick to defend himself with.
Knives had been an obvious choice of weapon for him. He knew them, he already worked with them and he was comfortable with them. He used them to create some pretty fantastic artwork, or at least the tourists seemed to think so. In minutes he could transform an ordinary piece of wood into some
thing intricate and beautiful. But he could use them for other, more deadly, purposes too. Knives were his friend, he could wield one as though it was an extension to his own arm, almost the same way he did with the staff.
“Have you always been into guns?” Kiera asked him, her voice strained although she was trying to keep it light.
He placed the gun he was cleaning on to the table and walked across to stand next to her. They looked down at his gun collection. It wasn't that big a collection really, five guns in total. Usually they were locked away in his safe but he had removed all of them for cleaning. He found cleaning guns therapeutic and after Kiera's arrival he had needed something relaxing. Three of the guns were hidden from view inside their cases. In his hand he held a Glock 34; a small, lightweight handgun that wasn't much good at long range but was easy to carry. The second gun visible sat on top of its case, waiting to be cleaned, and was a Nosler M48TGR hunting rifle. It was his favourite gun. It was excellent for shooting at long distances, which was where the actual skill was required after all.
“No, I never used to be,” he confessed, “but then I came here and…well, I got a bit bored.”
He noticed her swallow nervously. He couldn't deny a small sense of satisfaction with her discomfort. After all, she had been mean to Kitto.
Kiera cleared her throat and then asked hesitantly, “Do you really need so many weapons?”
“My job is to protect you, or so I'm told. It's what I've spent the last twenty years being trained to do. What did you expect I would do it with?”
Kiera was just about to tell him that she had managed the last twenty one years just fine without him and didn't need anyone to protect her, but she swallowed down a retort. She didn't want to argue with him twice on her first day, especially when he was surrounded by guns and knives. She frowned at him but nodded and then continued her inspection of his room.
She would rather have left Mr. Grumpy to clean his guns but she sensed that he was uncomfortable with her being there and she took some joy in that, after all he had just spoken to her rather rudely.
At the far end of the room she was drawn to a part of the wall that was covered in scraps of paper and notes. They were held up with blue-tac, some of the notes were faded and old and some were newer and freshly written.
She wouldn't have paid it too much attention but, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack's whole body tense and her curiosity was piqued. She scanned over the writing but it didn't make much sense. It was something to do with a car crash. She glanced at Jack for clarification.
He regarded her for a moment and she flushed under his gaze, suddenly feeling that perhaps she had come across something private and had pried too much. His dark eyes seemed to darken further. Then he slowly walked over to her and signalling to the wall he said, “My parents were murdered when I was five years old. I've been trying to figure out what happened and who did it.”
Kiera's mouth fell open. She suddenly felt a wave of sympathy wash over her for a five year old boy who had so cruelly had his parents taken from him, and been left alone in the world. The sympathy was followed by a stab of fear, “Murdered? Nothing to do with…” she waved her hands around in a gesture that incorporated herself and Jack and the house and Kitto, “…is it?”
Jack sighed, “I don't know but quite possibly yes. I've worked on this for twenty years and I still can't figure out who was there that night.” Jack's voice dropped and he said to himself more than to Kiera, “I don't know who was after us and I don't know who killed her.”
A part of Kiera wanted to question him further, but another part really wanted to get out of the room, away from the knives and the guns and the murdered parents. She muttered a farewell and left Jack staring blankly at the note-covered wall, something she felt sure he had done many times over the years.
She went straight up to her bedroom and sat down on the bed.
I'm in a house with two strange men, one of whom has a large collection of knives and guns and an obsession with the death of his parents from forty years ago, she thought glumly.
She noticed that the light had already started to fade outside. Shadows were spreading into the room. She looked at her broken light and grimaced. Soon she wouldn't be able to see. Perhaps it was time to come clean about the lightbulb. Or maybe she could fix it before anyone noticed. Could her day get any worse?
Chapter Seventeen
That night Kiera had a nightmare. She couldn't remember it clearly when she awoke. Jack had been in it, and Kitto, and she had glimpsed her dad in there somewhere. Other than that she could only recall shadows and the sound of someone screaming. Whatever the nightmare was it caused her to wake with a shout, flinging her arms about. There was a cracking sound and the next thing she knew Jack and Kitto were in her room looking at her with concern. Well, Kitto looked concerned, actually Jack just looked angry. At first she thought that he must not like being woken up, but then she realised that he was staring at something on the wall.
Kitto went to flick on the light and she grimaced. She had decided not to tell him about the broken light until morning. It had been awkward getting undressed in the dark but her first day in Kitto's house hadn't been a roaring success, so she had decided not to throw her uncontrollable magic powers and a broken light fitting into the mix. She could've used her magic to create a little light, she had done it once before, but she was nervous about using magic away from Mags.
Kitto was frowning and flicking the switch uselessly. Kiera bit her lip, “Sorry, I broke the light yesterday, I didn't mean to.”
She heard Jack give an exasperated sigh then he left the room and when he returned he was carrying a torch. He shone the torch first up at the non-existent light fitting, assessing the damage and then he shone it at the wall to reveal a giant crack that ran the full length of it.
Kiera gasped, “Did I do that? I'm sorry, I had a nightmare, I must have…lost control.”
Kitto was smiling at her sympathetically. Jack wasn't smiling.
“Do you do that often?” Jack asked stiffly.
She felt anger bubble softly inside her. He was looking at her as though she'd done it on purpose.
“No,” she retorted, “but I'm still learning how to control my powers and I've never used them away from Mags's home…well, I used them once at my old apartment block and it…erm, didn't go well.”
“What happened?” Jack asked turning the torch towards her so that she felt as though she was being interrogated.
“It was the first time I'd ever used my powers, I didn't even believe I had them,” she glanced away from them, “and I…I brought the whole apartment block down.”
When she looked back Jack was staring at her with his mouth open, but Kitto was still smiling amicably and didn't look fazed at all.
“I think I saw that on the news,” he commented stroking his beard.
“No-one was hurt,” she assured them, “and Mags has taught me how to restrain my powers but every so often…” She gestured towards the wall.
“It happens when you're emotional,” Kitto told her and she nodded in agreement, “you'll learn how to master that. Don't worry, Jack will sort this out for you tomorrow.”
Jack's eyes widened and he scowled briefly at Kitto before nodding, “Yes, I'll sort it out.”
Kiera shook her head, “I can do it.”
Kitto waved dismissively at her, “It's fine, don't worry. Jack doesn't mind.”
Jack placed the torch on the bedside table next to her, “Here, you might need this. I'm going back to bed, please try not to bring the house down on top of me.”
She was about to reply to him angrily when, through the darkness, she saw a smile on his lips. Jack was joking! That was the first time he'd done that since she'd arrived.
They said their goodnights. Jack may have been joking about bringing down the house but she was nervous as she settled back into bed, and she didn't sleep very well.
Kiera rose at first light. She had been awa
ke anyway. She quickly assessed the damage she'd done in the bedroom. It wasn't too bad, she could fix the wall. She'd learnt a few tricks from dad and tiptoed down to Jack's workshop. She rifled through his tools and found what she needed, then she headed back upstairs and had filled the crack in in the wall before breakfast. She smoothed it over and left it to dry.
Jack seemed to be torn between being impressed and being miffed she had used his tools without asking. After breakfast she spent the day exploring her new surroundings. She had a good look around the house which was spacious with a slightly old-fashioned feel to it. There was no doubt that it was owned by two men; it was tidy and clean but there were no photos, and not much in the way of ornaments.
Everything just seems so….practical, she thought, it could do with a woman's touch.
She was thrilled to discover a small library upstairs. It had neat rows of bookshelves and a couple of comfy armchairs in the corner. It was definitely her favourite room.
After thoroughly exploring the house she slipped on her coat and ventured outside. It was situated in such a beautiful location. Once she stepped out from the shelter of the house she was hit by the force of the wind which had unobstructed access to the hilltops around it. She wondered along with her hair blowing wildly out behind her and felt very Tess-of-the-Durbyvilles. She took some deep gulps of the cool, fresh air before heading back to the warmth of the house.
Jack didn't join them for lunch. Perhaps he was too busy fixing her light or perhaps he was tucked away in his workshop, but she and Kitto sat at the kitchen table and enjoyed a simple lunch of cheese and pickle sandwiches and some fruit.
Finally she plucked up the courage, and placing her sandwich on her plate, she said, “I had a vision of Bersaba.”
This took Kitto by surprise but he recovered himself quickly and after a beat he replied, “I see, what kind of vision?”
Kiera shuddered as she recalled the image of the nightdress billowing out as Bersaba plummeted to her death, “Oh, I don't know…” there seemed no point telling him about that, Mags had told her the vision must be incorrect, “What was she like?”
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