97 (Rise of the Battle Bred) (12 page)

Zarastrid’s Log

Five Years and Eight Days Later

It is done.

Zimini built a new acre of cells for the boys.

Zeko begins his training of the boys in earnest. They have been taken from the bosoms of their mothers.

A small grave, unmarked, lies outside Zeko’s window. A reminder.

The rest of the Vessels have been released into neighboring towns and given money and food. Their memories were erased with a special spell written by Zainel.

Would that my memory of Agnes could be obliterated as well. She will haunt me for eternity.

Crady pulled into the school parking lot. The Minivan was nowhere to be seen, which made me feel a lot better. Still wasn’t sure what we were doing here, though.

Crady jumped out. “Come on, let’s go!”

She jogged toward the football field, the bleachers, and the track. “Let’s run some laps.”

This was pretty oddball, even for Crady. But I like to be active, and I like to be with Crady, so it was all good. We ignored the cheerleaders who were doing jumps, shouting, counting and what not. There was no William in sight.

The football team was on the field, throwing balls around and yelling and landing on each other. William could have made the team just by showing up, I gathered. But I was not here to think about William. At least, I didn’t think that was the plan.

Crady and I jogged around the track. She kept up with me pretty well, considering the most exercise she got was running from the shoe rack to the register. “So, doesn’t this feel great?”  She asked me.

“It’s alright,” I said.

“I know it’s alright. You’re wondering why we’re here,” She responded.

“Yeah…” Our feet made soft slapping sounds on the asphalt.

“I know you noticed someone who is not here,” She said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“That’s why we’re here. I got to thinking about William and his mysterious on-again, off-again interest in you,” She stopped talking to catch her breath a little. The cheering sounded distant, as did the grunts of the football players.

“Okay,” I said. I wasn’t winded at all. I was used to hefting thirty pounds of papers and riding a bike for four or five miles every day. Running might use different muscles, but my lungs were just fine.

“Whatever he’s in the middle of, on or off, it’s always you,” She said, smiling sideways at me.

“Okay,” I said again.

“Get it?  It’s only you, Jane. He hasn’t even looked at me a total of five minutes. He certainly isn’t interested in Sydney or Emma or any of them. It’s only ever been you that he is or ‘isn’t’ into at a given time,” She used air quotes for ‘isn’t’. “Don’t you think that’s significant?”

I didn’t say anything for a several paces.

“I suppose,” Thoughts of our conversation, or rather,
his
conversation this morning came to mind. I left in a big huff. I refused to talk to him about it later in the day, even though he kind of hinted that maybe he wanted to after school. There were two words he’d said that I conveniently forgot about. Not. Yet.

And the cheerleaders were here, all curvy and sexy and coordinated, and he was not in the bleachers drooling over them.

Crady and I continued at our relaxed pace. She went on. “So aren’t you going to thank me for showing you the light?”  A sheen of sweat purled around her hairline. She panted lightly.

I was about to answer when we both saw him at the same time, walking from the parking lot toward the bleachers.

Crady came to a dead stop and said something that rhymed with ‘spit’ and bent over her knees.

I sped up and determined to break my record for the 400 meter. I was ticked off. I ran like that black devil Mick talked about was on my heels. And then I felt, more than heard, footsteps matching my own, and then speeding up behind me. I pushed myself. My arms pumped. I imagined myself sliding between air molecules, zero friction, blurring the air behind me with my speed. I lengthened my stride; I breathed measured breaths, in through my mouth, out through my nose. My hands were arrowed; I drew my elbows in as I sprinted. My feet were wings. I didn’t touch the asphalt. I was flying. And William was beside me, silent as a ghost, racing me to the finish line.

I was mad. Angry as heck. Why was he here, then?  For
them
?  The part of my brain insisting that he was next to me, matching his breathing to my own, battled with the part of my brain that reminded me he had come here at Emma’s invitation. We were almost to the end. I pulled ahead. I was going to beat this massive lunch-eating machine. He was going to eat my dust.

And then he was in front of me.

Waiting for me.

Catching me, because I couldn’t stop in time. His breathing was even and steady. Like he hadn’t just been in the race of his life. He absorbed me as I plowed into him at the fastest I believe I had ever run in my life, and he took my impact like a moth in a web. My chest heaved; my lungs burned. I looked up into his face as I took a deep gulping breath.

William looked down at me, arms wrapped around my waist now. He still didn’t smile at me, but there was softness about his eyes.

“You good?”  He asked me.

I nodded, otherwise paralyzed. I wanted to step back, get my bearings, and be a tough chica. But my legs weren’t obeying my will. My head wasn’t either, as I continued to stare up into William’s eyes. They were so beautiful, like the golden striations in them swirled between the brown and black, encircling his pupils. What secrets did they hold for me?

I didn’t realize I had tears streaming down my face until William slowly let me go and brought both hands up to my cheeks. He swept them upwards, catching the tracks of my tears with his palms, and carrying them away from my skin. A light late September breeze cooled my damp face.

“You look good,” He said softly.

Slowly, my heartbeat returned to normal. Or as normal as it was going to get with him in my vicinity.

I put my hands on my hips and continued to stare at him. My breathing eased.

“Why are you here?”  I finally asked him.

“You weren’t at home,” He said.

“But why did you come here?”  I wanted to hear him say it. How the cheerleaders had invited him.

He looked uncomfortable. I knew it.

“Admit it. They invited you, and you were curious. You probably haven’t ever been to a cheerleading practice in all your schools,” I told him. I was feverishly ignoring what he told me, that I looked good. I had just run all heck and gone, and was sweating and heaving and rattled, and he told me I looked good. I was not going to think about that.

Dawning crossed his features. “Oh that,” He said. He seemed enlightened. “Whatever,” He looked over at the girls, as if to cross that off his list. He looked back at me.

“I’ve made you cry, like, a bunch of times in the last few days,” He told me.

Ah crap. I looked down at the blacktop.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s all me. I’ve been…” he had to search for a word. I kind of liked that about him. I liked how he always wanted to choose just the exact word he was looking for. “The most ‘unmitigated and comprehensive ass’,” He chose.

I quirked my mouth. “Did you just quote “Pride and Prejudice?”

Now he looked down.

I stepped closer to him and pushed him a little in the chest. “Mr. I don’t have a lot of extra time?  Quoting a…a…
chick flick
?”

He shrugged. He had some explaining to do, but not now. Crady had approached, breathing slightly less labored now that she’d walked it off.

“You two alright?  Cuz I got to get home and shower. I haven’t sweated this much since Portland’s Macy’s store had 75% off clearance,” She used her sleeve to wipe her brow, and I smiled at her.

“He’s going to give me a ride,” I said. I frowned at him. “You’re not off the hook by a long shot, mister,” I told him.

He shook his head. “Of course not.”

I nodded and gave Crady a quick hug. I whispered in her ear. “Thank you for showing me the light,”

“No problem, chica,” She whispered back.

She left, and I stood with arms akimbo facing William. “Where to begin?”  I asked.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” He said, looking over my shoulder towards the bleachers and the cheerleading practice. I turned to look too, and saw that several girls were stopped and looking at us, one even pointing.

“Okay,” We walked toward them, and I grew more uncomfortable by the minute. We would have to pass them to get to the gate to the parking lot.

He spoke to me in a soft voice. “I didn’t really hear what they asked me at lunch. I was kind of,” he cleared his throat. “Kind of into my burger at the time,” I quickly looked up at him and he was clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh my gosh. Are you saying that you weren’t paying attention to one of the hottest girls in Deer Fjord because you were eating a burger?”  My voice raised a notch at burger, incredulous.

“It was a good burger. The pickles, the tomato,” his voice trailed off.

The Ticks walked up to us, hands on hips, “Hey, William. Nice of you to drop by,” They said smarmily, eyeing me in my sweaty hoodie and black yoga pants that had seen better days. “Nice workout clothes, Jane. Get ‘em at Wal-Mart?”  They chuckled together. “Oh wait. We don’t have a Wal-Mart here. You must have found them under a rock,” I rolled my eyes.

I went to walk by, but William stopped me. “You’re wrong,” He said to me, right in front of the Ticks.

“About what?”  I said, confused and annoyed. This better not be a habit of his.

“You said one of them was the hottest girl in Deer Fjord. It’s not either of them. It’s you,” And then he did something truly outrageous. He leaned into me and kissed me full on the mouth, quickly but firmly and rose back up to his impressive height. “Good afternoon, girls,” Then he pulled me after him, my lips burning from the craziest stealth kiss ever.

We got to his car. “Um, okay, William. Thanks for ‘defending my honor’ and all,” I used air quotes, “but that wasn’t really necessary, you know. I’ve dealt with the Ticks for my whole life,” He unlocked his car with his key fob and opened the passenger door for me.

“Yeah, that was messed up,” He agreed with me a little too readily. He was starting to tick me off again, and we’d only been getting along for about five minutes.

We were both in and buckled, and he turned to face me, “The thing is, I’ve wanted to kiss you since my first day of school, and I saw you staring at me from Crady’s car. So I can’t believe I ruined our first kiss by using it to shock those dumb girls. It was really stupid of me, and now I have to plan just the right time to make it up to you.”

It was the longest speech I’d ever heard William make with regard to his feelings for me. I sat stunned. He wanted to kiss me?  Like, for real?

I licked my lips self-consciously then, and continued to stare at him, probably like a deer caught in headlights, which was eminently appropriate considering the town in which we lived.

He chuckled softly, and touched my bottom lip with a fingertip. “Not now, Jane. Just…” he paused. “Try to pretend I didn’t just say that.”

Ha! Riiight. I shook my head. He had me off kilter in so many ways.
Kilter
. What the heck is a kilter?  That was going on my list too.

Zarastrid stood at the entrance, hands behind his back, eyeing the Marine within the room. He’d thrown the light switch, letting the buzzing fluorescents blink frenetically. “What is this?”  He asked loudly. “You’re not dressed?  What kind of establishment is my brother running, here?”  Zarastrid clapped his hands, and a sniveling man came up behind him. “Clean him up. Get him clothes. Have him ready in one hour.”

The servant nodded, and bustled about, finding the things he needed in a nearby closet. Zarastrid went to another hall in the subbasement where he had prepared a room. His servant approached. “The prisoner is ready, my liege.”

“Be dismissed,” Zarastrid said without looking at him. He padded the length of the hallway to the Marine’s room. He unlocked the man’s manacles. “You will follow me,” He walked fearlessly in front of the Marine, trusting in his impenetrable sorcery to protect him. But he was not a threat. They arrived in the room that Zarastrid had prepared.

Zarastrid watched him take in the room. He knew what the Marine saw, had in fact, created the setting with intent. Persian rugs lay scattered about the floor in layers. A leather club chair sat beside an elegant floor lamp that emitted a warm glow. Priceless art in gilded frames hung on the walls, and tasteful sculptures adorned the room. Zarastrid gestured to the chair. “Please. Sit. I apologize for the deplorable conditions Zeko had you in. How long has Zeko had you this time, Marine?  A couple of weeks or so?”  He continued to chat amicably, as if the last time they’d been in the same room, he hadn’t been inflicting unspeakable pain on the Marine.

The Marine looked at him. He didn’t betray distrust, if he was feeling it. Just looked at him. Zarastrid spoke again. “We got off on the wrong foot last year, the first time we caught you. Don’t make me explain myself; those were dark days. I’ve changed,” He said with a slow smile.

The Marine just looked at him.

“Well, if you’re not going to sit, I will,” He made himself comfortable, resting a long suited leg over a knee and dangling his burgundy leather wingtip lazily. He inspected the prisoner.

The Marine stood with excellent posture, considering Zeko had kept him chained up and isolated for the last two weeks. He wasn’t starved, but certainly wasn’t in peak health.

“You still have the carriage of a military man,” Zarastrid remarked. “Why did you leave the Marines?  They served you well, no doubt.”

The Marine made no reply.

Zarastrid determined not to let his silence goad him. “I’ve been studying. Experimenting,”   Zarastrid watched the man’s eyes carefully, thought he saw something with that last word. It pleased him. “I realized I’ve been going about things all wrong. You have no reason to trust me. No reason to divulge anything of value to me. I’m worthless to you. I’m beneath you,” He continued.

The Marine was very good. Other than that little shift in his gaze, he hadn’t shown his cards at all.

Zarastrid was practically immortal; he could wait. Up to a point. He waved his hand carelessly. “None of that interests you, either. So I propose a change in our relationship. Zeko may continue his botched attempts; I won’t stop him. But you and I: we are going to get very close. We’re going to be intimates. Confidantes, in time,”  He thought he saw the faintest hint of rebellion in the Marine’ eyes. Good. He was getting to him.

Zarastrid stood. “I’m relocating here. You and I will have daily meetings. We’ll break bread together. I have a little something that should interest you as well,” He escorted the Marine by the elbow out of the room. Where the soldier would have turned right to the end of the hall, Zarastrid steered him gently to the left. “I’ve taken the liberty of changing your accommodations. This way, please,” A few doors down, Zarastrid opened one.

The room was sparsely furnished, but unlike the cement cell with a floor drain, was carpeted. A simple pallet lay on the floor. Art was cleverly painted on the cement block wall.

“I see no need for chains. It’s so…Dark Ages, don’t you think?   Very barbaric,” He sniffed as if his sensibilities were offended. “Mark your calendar, Marine. This is the beginning of a new era between us,” He closed the door, leaving the man inside.

He debated turning the lock, but decided against it. If he didn’t trust his own power, then he walked the line that stood between excellence and impotence. His binding spell was enough to keep the Marine in the room as long as Zarastrid wanted him in there. He didn’t need to use such trivial devices as locks to achieve his ends.