Coercion

by Tamara Hart Heiner

  “Yeah, but it’s your stinking fault! You were supposed to be protecting me, protecting us, not falling prey to some demons who could twist your power away from you. How can you protect us if you can’t even protect yourself?”

  “First of all, my job is not to protect her, it’s to protect you.”

  I interrupted him. “Then you better add Meredith to your job description. Because if you can’t protect her, I will fail.” With that, I turned on my heel and pranced after Meredith.

  *~*

  Dinner was a quiet affair. Rory asked a lot of questions about how the training went, but he didn’t seem surprised or disappointed by our answers. Maybe he hadn’t expected it to go well.

  Meredith and Trey were civil with each other to the point of being humorous, all “can you pass the salt, please?” and “yes, here you go” and “thank you very much.” She turned subtly in her chair to give Trey the cold shoulder. It was enough to make me excuse myself to the outdoors. Or maybe I just needed to be alone for a moment.

  I sat on the porch step next to a large sheep dog and watched the sunset. There really wasn’t anything to do once the sun went down. None of the things I usually did for entertainment were available. There was no story to investigate, no sports to watch, no obituaries to peruse. Why I hadn’t I ever taken up running? I could jog for hours through these fields and not see the same corn stalk twice.

  Somewhere my boyfriend’s soul languished while his body was doing what? Lying dormant in a warehouse? Fighting a battle with swords and shields against immortal beings who refused to bow down to Samantha’s power trip?

  The war against the mortals hadn’t started yet. We would’ve heard about people dying, strange weather, unexplained phenomenon . . . right? I only had guesses right now. I had no idea what we were facing.

  My eyelids were heavy with the need to sleep, and my troubled spirit felt sluggish and uneasy. I pushed the screen door open to the house and murmured a good night to those present before escaping to my room.

  Sleep claimed me almost immediately. Once again the stairwell appeared in front of me. The door was already wide open, and I didn’t waste any time. I needed to get to the bottom. I walked down the steps, trying to stifle the fear that lifted goosebumps on my arms. The steps started out even and smooth like hardwood stairs. As I descended, they became rougher, uneven, steeper and bumpier, like rough-hewn stone left to chip and break away by the elements of wind and rain. Moisture saturated the air around me, clinging to my skin and hair, condensing to droplets and pinging onto the floor from an unseen height.

  The whole stairwell smelled musty and dank, ominous and creepy, but still I descended. One hand clung to the wall beside me, for balance and leverage and to make sure I didn’t pitch headfirst into the darkness.

  Blackness. Because I could see nothing in front of me. But still I kept going. Down. Down. Down.

  “Jayne.”

  His voice whispered up, up to me, no louder than a breath, making my heart pound harder.

  “Jayne.” Louder this time, yet strained, as if he carried a heavy burden.

  “Aaron,” I whispered back, willing my voice to travel to his ears and his heart. “I’m coming.”

  You’ll never be able to save him.

  The words were not spoken out loud, yet they rang through my mind like someone had shouted. They were not threatening, but a warning. I drew to a halt in my downward progression. Doubt crept up my spine, shivering into my thoughts while the speaker gripped my mind.

  You will only lose yourself also. Turn back while you still can.

  The voice was in my head again. I wasn’t alone here on the stairs. Someone else knew I was here.

  I pivoted on my heel, turning to go back up the stairs, when I felt the warmth filling the palm of my hand, radiating all the way to my elbow. I snatched my hand away from the wall and flipped it over to see the brand, the star of Auseklis, glowing brightly.

  “I’m here with you.”

  I lifted my head and saw Trey standing above me on the stairs.

  “You will succeed.” He extended a hand, and I placed mine in his, never so relieved to see him. “I am with you. I will protect you. When it is time, we will go together.”

  The stairwell shimmered like someone dipping their toe into a clear pond, and then he vanished along with the moisture, the musty air, and Aaron’s voice. I felt the absence like a blanket being pulled away in the cold night, and I shivered, curling into myself. I opened my eyes. I was on my bed, wrapped tightly around myself, dressed in the flannel pajamas of Rory’s deceased wife.

  My bedroom door opened, and I lifted my head as an orange glow bobbed into the room. The glow called to me, urged me to get out of bed and claim it. I narrowed my eyes. Was I still dreaming? Legs descended from the fiery ball, and then it grew arms and a head, until the brilliance disappeared and all that was left was a man.

  A very familiar man, with dark skin and jet black hair and well-defined pecs.

  “Who are you?” I asked, pushing myself into a sitting position, even though I suspected I knew the answer.

  A smile tugged at his lips, warm and inviting. “You don’t remember me? After all the life times we’ve shared?”

  A memory whispered through me, and I almost knew him. And yet, I didn’t at all.

  “I can help you remember,” he said. He held his hand out and opened his fist, revealing the same brilliant ball of fire in the palm of his hand. “Here are your past lives. Your memories.”

  I stared into the flickering fire, captivated by the arcs and flares. I lifted my eyes back to his, saw the reflection of the flame in their depths. “Am I still dreaming?”

  “Are you?” That same smile played about his lips. He closed his fingers, concealing the little ball of flame. It seemed to take a little piece of me with it, and I gave a sigh of longing.

  He stepped closer to me. “All those memories. They’re all right there. Waiting for you.”

  “And after I get them, I’ll be able to summon visions? I can free Trey?”

  “You already know how. You’ve just forgotten.”

  It seemed so easy. And yet, something about him made me suspicious. “Is there any other way for me to get them?”

  He gave a snort of impatience and thrust his hand into his pocket. “Yes. But how long will you wait? Six months? Five years? A decade? A word of advice: don’t. The gods don’t have too long.”

  I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but suddenly I was swept once again to that desolated clearing. I walked along barefoot, the wind swirling around my ankles, burnt grass crinkling beneath my feet. But this time, I wasn’t alone. For the first time, I heard the sounds around me. Shouting, screaming. The unmistakable clang of weapon on weapon. I lifted my chin, my heart beating fiercely, my breath ragged in my throat. I saw them in front of me, mere mortals, fighting in a war that wasn’t theirs. Fighting in a war that could forever silence their lives. My power as a goddess of fate couldn’t save them as they met untimely ends, swords cutting off the thread of their existences. Not even my own brothers and sisters were infallible. One after another, brands appeared on their wrists, trapping them without their powers, leaving them as vulnerable as the mortals.

  How could we save them? How? I turned my tear-streaked face to my sister, beautiful even as the tragedy twisted her features, blue eyes shining with grief.

  “It’s time,” Laima said.

  It was time. Our desperate hour had arrived.

  I blinked again and took in the familiar surroundings of the farmhouse bedroom. My eyes shot around the room, seeking the man who had been there before my vision.

  There was no one. My door was closed. Outside my window, dawn was just beginning to break. I settled back on my pillow and stared at the ceiling. How much of last night had been real? How many of those visions were simply dreams? All of them?

  I squeezed my eyes shut. What did it all mean?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I was aw
ake now. With nothing else to do, I changed back into my clothes and wrinkled my nose at the rank smell of body odor. I needed a shower and new clothes. I couldn’t wear this outfit forever.

  I tiptoed down the stairs and discovered I wasn’t the only one up. Rory had already gathered the eggs. He pulled the skillet off a rack and set it on top of the gas stove, but I intercepted him before he could start cooking.

  “Let me. You don’t have to just serve us the whole time.”

  “I don’t mind. It reminds me of what my role used to be.” But he stepped to the side, putting a lump of butter next to the pan along with the freshly gathered eggs.

  Trey popped into the kitchen next, his red hair spiking up, wearing a button-up shirt under a pair of overalls. “Look at you, miss farmhand.”

  “What are you supposed to be, the farmer’s son?” Meredith came into the room also, her hair still in yesterday’s ponytail but not nearly so neat.

  “You should write a poem about how the farmer’s son wakes up better looking than the farmer’s daughter.”

  Meredith joined me at the stove, pulling down plates so I could spread eggs onto them. “If that’s supposed to be an insult, you’re gonna have to try harder. Because I ain’t the farmer’s daughter.”

  “What are your plans today?” Rory asked Trey, interrupting their verbal sparring.

  “I need to take Jayne out to practice.”

  Meredith sat down at the table, passing out plates of eggs and forks. “So you can continue to prove what a horrible teacher you are?”

  “Hey,” Trey protested, “she actually got two kids to turn around and meet her eyes yesterday.”

  “Hardly because of you,” Meredith said. “If I stared at the back of someone’s head long enough, they’d probably turn around and look at me also.”

  “Because you would give them the heebie-jeebies.”

  I raised the spatula I’d been using to cook. “I have a request. I need new clothes.”

  Beth stumbled in, somehow totally cute in her frumpy pajamas. Her straightened hair had long since returned to its natural curl, and she gave a huge yawn. “Did somebody say clothes? I need some. I reek.”

  Meredith sniffed her shirt and made a face. “We all do.”

  “You can say that again,” Trey said. He avoided Meredith’s fork as it tried to stab his arm and brought his empty plate to the sink. “Thanks for breakfast, Jayne. We can find somewhere for you to get clothes and practice at the same time.”

  “But I’m definitely coming today!” Beth said, piling her plate high with more scrambled eggs. “Can we buy some bagels?”

  I looked at Trey. “I have a debit card. We can use it.”

  “And give away your location? I raided my piggy bank last night. We’re set.”

  “You kept a secret stash at your grandpa’s house?” Meredith said, arching an eyebrow.

  He looked at her coolly. “At my house. I grew up here. I moved in with my mom in Jersey only to be close to Jayne.”

  I blinked in surprised, startled to realize how much I had uprooted his life before I’d even met him. “We’ll pay you back, I promise.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not worried about it. It’ll be fine.”

  “Well, in that case.” Beth stuffed the last bit of her eggs into her mouth. “Let me go wash my face and I’m ready to go.”

  “Guess I’ll change into what I wore yesterday,” Meredith said with a sigh.

  I took the skillet over to the sink and began to wash it. Trey followed me, hovering near my elbow. “I wanted to talk to you, Jayne.”

  He sounded so serious, not like the Trey I’d come to know over the past few days. I put the skillet down and faced him. “What about?”

  He licked his lips and slipped his hands into his pockets. He actually looked nervous. “That dream you had last night.”

  It was a good thing I had put the skillet down, or I would’ve just dropped it on my foot. Or his foot, if I was lucky. Knowing me, I wouldn’t be. “Dream?” Which crazy night time experience of mine was he referencing?

  His hand came out and took my wrist, flipping it over so it was palm up. His fingers traced the brand of his star, barely visible in the sunlight pouring in through the window. “How many times have you been to those stairs?”

  I gave a startled gasp and jerked my hand back. “Were you—how did you know? Is it real?”

  He met my eyes. “It’s real. It’s the way to the underworld. I want to know how you got there.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Aaron. I heard Aaron calling me. All I’ve done is follow his voice.”

  Trey’s eyes narrowed. “How many times?” he repeated.

  I tried to remember. “Three times, maybe.”

  He stared at me, gnawing on his lower lip. “We have to speed things along. You have to get your memories back before you go into the underworld. You’re doing this without me, and that’s not how it’s supposed to be done. But I don’t think you have any control over it.”

  “I don’t. But the first time, when I opened the door—that’s when your star appeared.”

  He took my hand again, studying my palm. He touched the center of the star, and immediately a heat pressed outward from my palm, a light traveling from my flesh to his finger. He pulled his hand back and stared at his finger in wonder.

  “What?” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes from the expression on his face.

  “I felt it. My powers.” He stared again at my hand. “It’s like you’ve got them. Somehow, that’s made it so that you can begin the descent without me.” He flexed his wrist, the brand of chains on his arm bulging. “It won’t be enough, though. I need to physically be at your side to protect you.” He lifted his eyes to mine again. “What else did you see?”

  The god-dude. I saw him. He made me promises and spoke in riddles about us that I did not understand.

  I didn’t say any of that. I was afraid of what Trey might say. Was it shameful for me to consider the guy’s offer to get my memories back and free Aaron? Or was it better to reject him and avoid whatever deal it might be?

  “Jayne?” Trey’s sharp tone shook me from my thoughts.

  “Nothing,” I said, remembering his question.

  He didn’t believe me. I saw it in the way he eyed me. But he shrugged it off. “Let’s get the others and get out of here.”

  *~*

  By the end of the day, all I felt was frustration. The bag of clothes I purchased from the discount store didn’t make me feel any better. We had wandered around the store for hours, making small talk while quietly trailing any family with small children. I’d had no more success than the day before, with a total of two meeting my eyes. And I couldn’t even be sure if it was intentionally looking at me or just happening to glance my direction.

  We all squished into the cab of Rory’s truck when it got closer to dinnertime. We were totally crunched now that there were four of us. I ignored Meredith and Trey bickering over which radio station to listen to. Instead I rolled my window down and tried to get a reaction from the few people we saw outside. I’d been concentrating so hard and for so long that my brain hurt, literally drilling away at the inside of my skull.

  Somewhere within my purse, my phone dinged. Three faces swiveled my direction, expressions varying from surprise to accusation.

  I gave them my best wide-eyed, innocent look. “I swear, I turned my phone off!”

  Meredith let out a huff. “If the police are looking for us, they’ll be able to track your GPS.”

  Beth’s shoulders tightened beside me. “You mean they could be tracking us right now?” she asked.

  I yanked the offending phone out of my purse, ready to twist it into pieces with my bare hands. But then I froze. The exterior screen on my flip phone was gray. No digital display or any indication of power showed.

  “I don’t think my phone’s on,” I said slowly.

  “But you got a message. Right?” Trey said.

  I flipped the ph
one open. A message glowed on the dark screen, even though every sign indicated that my phone was off. My stomach give a little tumble even as I read the words.

  Samantha is harvesting the powers of the fates so she can defeat the other gods. You must stop her.

  That was it. But I knew who it was from. My fingers flew over the keypad, hoping the two-way messaging system worked even with my phone being off. How do we stop her? Where do we go?

  She is hunting you. Do not use your powers. Follow her trail.

  Trail? What trail?

  “What is it?” Trey asked.

  I looked up and realized he had stopped the car. We had pulled over to the side of the road while I read through the texts. “I’m not sure. It’s a message from Laima, but I’m not sure how to follow through. She said we have to stop Samantha. That we can find her by following her trail.”

  Beth wrinkled her nose. “What sort of trail is Samantha leaving?”

  My eyes met Trey’s, and the answer that came to my mind left goosebumps on my skin. “Death and destruction.”

  Trey faced the highway again and gunned the engine, jerking the car back onto the road.

  “Where we going?” I asked, mildly freaked out by his demeanor.

  “Somewhere we can watch the news. We need to see what kind of trail Samantha is leaving.”

  I wasn’t sure exactly where Trey had in mind for finding a TV, but I sure didn’t expect him to drive back out into the country and turn down a long dirt road.

  “They have a satellite farm out here among the cows?” Meredith asked wryly. “Dish Network, maybe?”

  “So funny.” Trey turned a sharp corner, gravel spitting behind us, and a beautiful plantation-style farmhouse rose out of the scenery in front of us. It was pristine, elegant, and noble, nothing like anything else we’d seen around here.

  Trey ground to a halt in front of it, already undoing his seatbelt and climbing out of the car before I’d fully appreciated our stop. Meredith followed Trey while Beth and I got out my side.

  “What, does his mistress live here?” Beth said.