Talon says, "You don't know Ela like I do. She is no spy, I swear it on my blood. She needs to stay here, now more than ever. Not only are the Shades after her, but now we know why they want her so badly. We can’t allow them to take her, much less hand her over like a chess pawn."
"Can’t we?" Birka looks at me, and I don't like her expression. I don't know what she's feeling or thinking, but it sends a chill down my spine.
Talon continues, "Of course not. She and Luna are sisters. Luna could steal her—"
"Be silent," Birka barks at him and looks around the room. "Not here, son."
I don't care about hiding their secret, the fact that at least one person in this world can drain someone else's magic permanently. Whatever they're talking about, it's just not important, not to me. I won't stand here and be judged by them, nor pitied, which are the two obvious options. Or is this the lie, and they're playing me for a fool? Either way, both ideas tell me one thing.
I must run. I can trust none of them. Birka lied. How much did Talon know about what she was researching? He may well have been lying, too. And worst of all, my own mother lied. My supposed father lied. Luna and Kasik lied. She's my sister, and yet all she wants is to steal my powers.
Then, it hits me. Oh no… If Luna and Talon share a father in Kasik, who is also my father, then Talon is my brother. It could explain why he pushed me away in the SUV the other night, when I threw myself at him, if he knew he was my brother and has been playing me for a fool this entire time. Why else would he have pushed me away? I was willing and wanton, and he only let me think he felt the same long enough to lure me in, then shoved me away because he's my brother.
Ew. My stomach suddenly churns at the thought. Pig!
Another possible reason comes, unbidden and unwelcome. He knew some people can steal powers because Luna had stolen his. What if he only wanted me here to take mine? But could he have been so callous? Did I blind myself to his real motives? But he is a Wraith with no magic; of course he wanted mine.
And it explained why he knew of me when we met in the park in Hollows Ground, before Luka died...
My heart physically hurts. I feel like I might die right here and now. I would even be okay with that, but I'm not okay with seeing Birka's smug face, and I'm not okay risking my life just to trust Talon, Luna's brother and, I have no choice but to admit, my sister, as well.
Birka might also very well have a strong ulterior motives for telling me this. I trusted her, too, just as I did her son. She would want her son to have magic once again, wouldn't she? What mother wouldn’t? I’m not a parent, but I think that if giving that back to her son came at the expense of some other woman's child, surely that'd be a satisfying conclusion for her to see. Revenge and caring for her son in one fell swoop, all at my expense.
No!
Yes.
I'm too confused to know what's real right now, but I know one thing: The insanity stops here and now. I may hate Talon, I’m not yet certain, but I can't take this anymore and don't care what the consequences of leaving will be.
I turn on my heels and run, sprinting from the manor. To where? I don't know. Anywhere other than this place, though. I run to the sidewalk and turn left, choosing randomly. Then, I put my head down and keep running.
Talon's voice comes from behind me, shouting, "Ela! Stop, dammit, we have to talk."
No, we don't have to. "Go away," I scream without slowing down.
"Stop and think about this," he says, starting to pant as he catches up to me. "Stay, just a while. Think before you do anything hasty."
“No, and no. And no,” I shout, but abruptly, I realize where I am, and stop. I've run all the way to the place where I first came into Mortals Landing. I know a way out! I should have thought of it sooner. Though my legs now burn from all that running, I sprint away, pushing myself to run harder, faster, stronger.
The building grows larger, and fierce joy shoots through me at the thought of escaping all this nonsense. The stupid war ends with me.
Just as I reach the perimeter, Talon shouts, "Stop her!" several times, but people simply turn to look at him, confused, and don't understand what he wants until I'm already past. Now I'm afraid. He's trying to stop me from going. Why? He said I'd never be a prisoner here.
So, that, too, was a lie.
The sudden realization makes my choice easy. Without slowing, I race through a doorway that stands in the middle of the room, and when I get to the other side, I'm no longer in Mortals Landing. Hello, Georgia Mountains. I slam the door shut on my end and kick at the knob once, twice, and on my third kick, it cracks. I draw my daggers and, one after the other, smash the knob with my blades’ iron pommels until it breaks away and goes skipping across the floor.
Ha. Try to follow me now, jerkface. Now that I know what my amulet does, I know that, if I can get away from here, I can choose my own destiny and quit being both a pawn and a fuel pump for the twisted, selfish Shades and Wraiths and their messed-up games. Shades and Wraiths are no different. It’s just that the Wraiths are sneakier and more subtle than the Shades, that's all.
But, I can be free. I can go back to being merely human, like I always was before Luka found me. Before Luka found me…
Was that a lie, too, just like Talon? Luka could have been looking for me at Kasik's command until he broke ranks after discovering the Gypsy plot was continuing after they'd already found me. Maybe he actually did change sides, but he was still the kind of man who could take advantage of a stranger, a woman in dire straits, and half-drag her to her doom.
I don't let my confused, heartbroken sobbing slow me down, though. I need time and distance more than I need more words I can't afford to believe, from people I can't believe I trusted.
By the time I get out of those tunnels and into the cool mountain air, the sun has set and the moon is rising high enough to shine silvery light all over the valley that stretches out beyond the viewpoint’s safety railings.
Better yet, a bunch of Wraith SUVs are still parked there. I bet at least one has a spare key somewhere, like under the tire. I smile for the first time in hours and start to look for one. It feels like I'm looking forward, at long last.
That's a good thing, too, because I swear to myself that I won't ever look back.
Chapter Five
By the time the mountains are just distant hills in my rearview mirror, I'm not crying anymore. In fact, now that it is well over an hour later, my decision to leave feels like a huge boulder I wasn’t really aware of has been lifted off my back. I'm light as air as I rap my fingers on the steering wheel, driving badly down the laser-straight highway, singing some of my favorite songs out loud and possibly off key. I think I have a great voice, but I've never sung in front of anyone to tell me otherwise. It doesn't matter, though, because I’m singing like the birds sing—happy just to be alive and free, and to hell with anyone who doesn't like it.
A bit later, the novelty wears off and boredom creeps in. I flick the radio off and flip the sun visor up and down, bouncing in my seat.
An envelope falls from the passenger visor. I grab the envelope, which feels like it’s made of some fine cloth rather than mere paper, and check it. Inside, I find money. Lots of money. It must be a Wraith's operations money, I realize, and without pulling over, I count it. I have to re-count twice when the “turtle bumps” between lanes startle me into paying attention to where I point the car. When I finish the count, though, I have nearly five-thousand dollars in $20s, $50s, and $100s. That’s enough to drive a long, long way. Stealing it feels a little wrong, but I can't return the vehicle and money, nor can I get by without it. Money is a problem I figured I could address later, but now I won't have to. Plus, they owe me for the anguish they caused me. As if I hadn't been in enough anguish before Luka and his bizarre magical world found me and roughed me up and dumped me in an alley, so to speak.
Up ahead, a well-lit sign says I'm approaching "Tony's Diner, Gas, and Donuts." I need all three of those things. E
specially donuts.
When I get to the entrance, I put on my blinker and drive in. I even manage to pull into a parking spot without tapping the bright-green Juniper tree growing between the cement car-stopper thing and the donut place. I’m still not great at driving, as it's only been a few hours, but I’m getting better.
Those thoughts vanish as I catch a whiff of something delicious and donut-y, and I scramble out from the seatbelt, jump down to the ground from the lifted SUV’s cabin, and speed-walk to the entrance.
I walk inside and the first thing I notice is that the diner side is full, so I slide up to the counter rather than waiting for a booth or table. The bar is the only place with much room at this time of day, apparently, and I don't want to share a table with a stranger, so the choice is easy.
A woman in a waitress uniform comes up. She's nothing like what I expect a roadside diner waitress to look like. I expected a blue-haired, frumpy old lady. What I get is a gorgeous woman about my age, and I kinda wish I looked like her.
She says, "Hi, sweetie. What can I get for ya? You want some sweet tea to start off with?"
"Ugh. I hate sweet tea. I tried it once and practically felt my teeth rotting," I reply, then mentally smack myself in the head for saying that. Why did I say that? She makes me nervous for some reason. I smile, feeling my cheeks get warm. Why am I here? Oh right, food...
She's nice, though, and grins back at me. "Well, I s'pose not ev’ry one can like it, or there'd be no pop. You want one o' them, instead?"
I nod. "Caffeine and sugar in a drink, without having to look at undissolved sugar at the bottom of a glass of tea? Yes, please. And I guess I'll take the 'Jacks’ Platter,' but with three pancakes instead of five, and two slices of bacon instead of, well, five. And can I get the eggs over-easy instead of scrambled? I like to dip my toast in the yolks." I can't stop myself from babbling at her, the words streaming off my tongue, without taking a moment to breathe.
She smiles, nods, and leaves. Boy am I glad Talon's not here, or she'd give all her attention to…
Thinking of Talon snaps me right back to reality. I can either watch the room full of people or Sports Center on the TV, and the dining room packed with truckers wins. I turn around as she leaves so I can check out the room.
Only, there isn't a room full of them.
Odd, it was packed when I came in, but half the people are gone now. It looks like some even left half a plate of food and money on the table without even getting tickets first. I wonder where they went in such a hurry. It’s even kind of spooky, and I catch myself looking around as my anxiety grows.
I take a deep breath. I must have imagined that. Half a restaurant doesn’t clear out in five minutes, not that I ever saw, so I check out the remaining people. One man, wearing a puffy, quilted trucker jacket, gets up and tosses a $20 bill on the table. He heads to the door, holding his stomach and looking a little green. Poor guy.
Oh no, and I just ordered over-easy eggs. I’m not quite as hungry as when I came in. When the waitress comes back with my pop, I lean forward and whisper, "Hey, is the food here okay? Girl to girl, you gotta tell me. I just saw a guy leave, and he didn't look like he felt too great."
She looks around the room and half jumps, like she just noticed the emptying room for the first time. "Where'd everyone go?" She looks at me and leans forward, resting her elbows on the counter, giving me a view most guys would kill for. "Honey, the food here is great. That’s just the flu going 'round, I reckon. If this wasn’t the best place in town, I wouldn't eat here, believe me."
I nod back at her, even though it's one of the only two places in town that are clearly focused on serving food. I do believe her, but I couldn't explain why if anyone asked.
More people leave, but across the highway, there's a motel parking lot that looks a lot emptier than when I came in. That, too, seems weird, but it shows me it's not from the food. I feel better about eating here.
When the waitress returns with my food and a soda, she looks exhausted. She has bags under her eyes, where before, she was cute and hot and energetic all in one.
"Are you okay?" I ask, genuinely concerned. Whatever is hitting her, it works fast.
"I must be comin' down with it, too. Don't worry, honey, I wore gloves putting food on the plate, just'n case. I sure do feel tired, though. Wiped out, more like it. I think I'm calling it an early day. You enjoy them eggs, girl."
She turns to the kitchen window and hollers, "Roy, I'm takin' off. I caught somethin' and I don't want to git it on you."
There's a brief argument between the two as I nibble bacon and watch. Finally, she stomps out from behind the counter, vowing to him that she's done working here. But then she gives me a smirk and a wink, and says quietly as she passes, "Ain't nothing. Just how we all talk to one another. See ya."
And then she's gone, out the door and into her car, driving away. My brief interaction with her brings me a deep melancholy as I consider all the friendships and great conversations with strangers I must have missed while I grew up in a studio apartment as a hermit. But that was then. I'm not that girl, anymore, and I'm glad for that. Not long ago, I wouldn't have had the courage to walk out of Mortals Landing, and leaving was a good thing.
Once I'm done eating, I wave at the cook behind the counter, but he waves one hand at me dismissively. Apparently, taking money isn't his job. I grin, but set down about twenty bucks' worth of gold dust in a small glass vial. All the money I have besides what I left in the envelope is in tiny glass vials in in various pockets. It’s not cash, but no one ever minds getting paid in gold, I've found. I just want to use it up now, early in my escape, because paying in gold draws attention. Less attention is what I want, not more, and no one forgets being paid in gold. The farther away I get, the less I want them to remember me.
When I walk outside, the motel parking lot across the street still has cars, but no one is coming or going, or hitting the ice machine, or any of the activity I saw when I first arrived. It starts to weird me out, actually, and I hop in the vehicle quickly. In my rush, I almost hit a dying brown tree in front of the space where I parked, until I remember to put it into reverse. Driving is still basically a new experience for me.
Then, I head on down the road, hoping I don’t catch whatever was going around that little podunk town. I don't know where I'm going, but the idea that I can go wherever I want with no one telling me yes or no, no one following me around, quickly has me tapping my fingers on the steering wheel once again. This time, it’s to the radio's beat of some old song the DJ called Highway to Hell, by a band I never heard of, "AC/DC." Maybe I'll buy the CD, if I can find a store that still sells those way out here.
I wave goodbye to the little dinky town I just left in the rearview mirror, and a waitress whose name I can’t remember.
Chapter Six
I have a vague uneasiness, but I don't know what it's about, like a free-floating anxiety. It's accompanied by a sensation like my limbs are full of lead, or like my batteries are running low. I don't know why I keep glancing at the fuel gauge. Only twenty miles ago, at a worn-down highway gas station, I paid some teen with bad skin a little ten-dollar vial of gold dust for about fifty bucks in gas. It took the big gas-guzzling SUV from half a tank to full.
Irritated at the upbeat song playing, I turn off the radio. With every passing mile, the unease grows stronger. After another ten minutes and just as many miles have passed, the feeling gets to be kind of overwhelming. More than "kind of," actually.
Ahead, the shoulder widens for a short stretch. It’s as a good place to pull over and maybe get some fresh air. Yeah, fresh air and a stretch will do me some good. Not that I didn't get fresh air from my four open car windows, but I need to get out of the vehicle. It feels like a box, like a steel cage on wheels. I aim the car at the wide shoulder, but almost don't hit the brakes in time. I have to slam the pedal to avoid missing it entirely. For some reason, I'm moving kind of sluggishly. Once again, I hope I didn't catch whatever
flu that waitress got. It sure seemed to hit her hard and fast.
The second I open the door and step out, however, the anxiety disappears. The clouds must have parted, because everything seems brighter and cheerier than it did a minute ago. When all the birds stop chirping at my intrusion, that's a bit of a bummer, but if I just stand still long enough, they'll start to sing and chirp again. I take a deep breath to wait for the nature-song to start again.
Only, I can't stand still. There's a restless energy to me that makes me fidget and shift from foot to foot, the opposite of the malaise I felt before I pulled over. No anxiety, thankfully, but I've been in the SUV too long. There's a little path into the woods, like a game trail, and on a sudden impulse, I head for it. A quiet walk in the serenity of nature? Sign me up.
As I get closer to the woods, I feel even better. My spirits are rebounding. The woodsy scent is refreshing, and as soon as I enter into the tree line, my steps start to feel light as air. I should do this more often, walking in the woods and just enjoying the sights, the sounds, the scents.
Rejuvenated, I walk a bit faster. Heck, I'd start skipping if it wouldn't make me feel silly. The trail, which is really more like a narrow strip with less undergrowth than everywhere else, winds slowly through the forest. I see a dozen spots that would be perfect for camping out for the night, and I feel so good, I just might do that. I'm pretty sure the Wraiths have emergency supplies in the back of their vehicles, or Talon once said they did, which would do just fine I’m sure. But even if there are no blankets in back, I wouldn't mind. It shouldn’t get too cold at night at this time of year, and I read once about how to make a makeshift shelter with bedding from nothing tree branches. Maybe I'll be good at it. Who knows? I'm eager to find out.
Finally free, and with a new confidence, I'm just now realizing that I can look forward to experiencing all sorts of new things. New activities. I once heard about an online site where people set up boutique shops, and I already know I can make enough money on my jewelry to earn a living, especially without my old landlady taking it all. I didn't mind that then, because I never left home, but no more. I get lost in my head, daydreaming about all the things I could do with that mone
Empath Reborn Page 5