97 (Rise of the Battle Bred) (7 page)

The memory of being carried in his arms flashed in my mind without invitation. I tamped down any emotion I might have felt from thinking about that and walked him to the door.

William turned to me before he walked out. “I don’t want to hurt you,” That was it. That’s what he said to me before he walked out and walked down the street to his house. I watched him walk to his house. He had the grace of a big cat. He could be a lion.

I remembered him doing Misrillet. Then I thought of what I had seen. It was like a dance. A dance and a fight. The Misrillet! I punched my hand against the wall. I knew it. He was fighting whatever had attacked Mick. Why would he deny that?  He had to know I would appreciate anyone who protected my cousin. I needed to talk to Mick.

Zarastrid’s Log Day 201

Zainel
awakened us all in the early hours. The babe, thought to be dead, resurrected. Zainel’s efforts and magicks worked!  The Coven has triumphed in creating a wondrous race. Malleus Bellicus will triumph!

With the attention diverted away from myself, I took the time to visit with Agnes.

Our interview went thusly:

“You’ve come to see the trophy of the Warlochs,” She said to me without emotion.

“It wasn’t unexpected,” Even with her anger rolling off her face in waves, I felt the strangest yearning to hold her in my arms, as I did the day she found out she was carrying a child. But in the Coven’s best interest, such a display cannot happen again.

She gave a sharp laugh.

“No. Not at all. We all did what we came to do,” She shook her head, and then bent it to coo at the baby whose mouth was fixed at her breast. She murmured quietly; I couldn’t hear her words, and felt a keen jealousy toward the innocent would-be soldier.

“You look well,” I told her.

She slowly raised her eyes to me.

“Why do you torture me?”  She asked simply.

“Torture?”  I admit I raised my voice.

She pierced me with her earnest eyes, freckled skin pinking up in a half-hearted anger directed at my person.

“You give me gifts. Compliments. And the moment I need you most, you disappear,” She said.

I frowned at her.

“I had no choice,” I said.

“You have a choice!” she snapped. “You are the leader of this,” she gestured with her hand, “convent of powerful men. You command; they obey!”

“We made a Pact. A sacred oath. We choose all over the one,” I tried to explain.

“You choose all?  All power?  All riches?  All fealty?”  She said waspishly.

I took a step forward.

“The wishes of all circumvent the wishes of one. We choose together or not at all,” I said unapologetically.

“You are choosing something evil. I can tell,” She said.

“You speak of what you do not know,” I warned her.

“Why the secrecy?  Why the cells?  Why these babes?  You need them for something. I can’t figure out what, yet,” She furrowed her brow, and seemed to squeeze her little one tighter.

“You’re worried we’ll take them away from you,” I voiced her fear.

She began to sob. I wished to go to her.

But the Pact.

“Yes. We have grand plans for the babes. But you mothers will play an integral role. You need not fear we will take them from you,” I tried to sound consoling and earnest.

“Zarastrid, you give with one hand, and take with the other. I want you to leave,” She said through tears.

I tried to summon empathy, but I wasn’t capable. My yearnings were simpler, I’m afraid. I wanted to connect with her body and soul, but I sensed a barrier with the infant. Not to mention the Pact that forbade any relationships more meaningful than a physical release.

“I will leave you then. Until later,” I said, and left, feeling somewhat empty. But the babe looked well, nursed heartily at her breast, and she looked radiant. No wonder I often see her in my mind’s eye when I am otherwise attempting to strategize the next move of our Coven.

I threw on loose fitting clothes even though I was in quite a bit of pain. Tennis shoes and my phone, and I was ready to ride. I would just ride to the hospital and butt my way in to find out how Mick was doing. Then I remembered that my bike was in the trunk of my mom’s car and about as useful as a crushed pop can.

I would drive. Except I didn’t know how. Pathetic, I knew. Eighteen and I didn’t drive. But I hadn’t needed to up to this point. Small town, great bike…I chewed on my lip and stared at my mom’s car. Debating breaking the law, I stood on my lawn until my phone rang in my hand.

“Yes?”  I answered impatiently.

“It’s Mom. Mick is going to be fine. He’s asking for you. Can you get here?”

“My bike…” I started to say, and then I saw William walking with it back to my house. He must have taken it out of the trunk and fixed it.

I stood there like a mannequin and watched him wheel it along. The tires were straightened, the handlebars as straight as ever. Was he trying to kill me with kindness?  Because it was going to work.

“Yeah, I can get there. See you soon,” I said into the phone while staring at William. His massive frame looked kind of silly next to my mountain bike. I wondered briefly if it would even hold his weight.

He came up to me and stood there, balancing my bike with one hand. “Going somewhere?”  He asked casually.

“The hospital. Mick’s asking for me,” I told him, watching his face carefully for anything, any sign that he might tell me what he knew. But his face was impassive.

“Good. Tell him I hope he recovers soon,” He said politely. He turned to leave.

“Um, William,” I put my hand on his arm. He looked down at it, and I pulled it back, embarrassed. My blush didn’t seem quite as determined to show up this time, so that was good. “I can’t thank you enough for fixing my bike. I thought it was a goner,” I gave him one of my genuine smiles. The kind that I reserved for my grandma who flew up from Florida once a year.

William looked startled, and then a slow smile spread across his face like honey dripping from a spoon. “You’re welcome, Jane,” Then he left for good, and I’m not ashamed to say that I watched him go all the way to his house. I knew he wouldn’t look back; he was too shy or something. So I admired his broad shoulders, and trim waist and hips, and powerful stride, and imagined him doing his Misrillet at 4:30 this morning. He would have seen me race by on my bike, my braid trailing behind me and my pajama bottoms flapping maniacally from the wind.

I hopped on my bike and rode to the hospital, ignoring the twinges of pain as my scratches and abrasions stretched over moving joints. I was going to need an Advil after this. I parked my bike in the front. Deer Fjord didn’t have a lot of things, like a Wal-Mart or a Target, but it did have a small teaching hospital. Something about federal money and low-income area, some sort of politics or whatever. Whatever brought it here, I was glad for Mick’s sake. I went to the bank of elevators and went up to his floor. I walked as briskly as I could without causing nurses to get mad, and found his room.

“Mick!” I said in a loud whisper. He was awake, but wrapped up like a mummy at first glance. There was an IV too. “What the heck happened this morning?  What is all this?”  I gestured to the IV, the machines and wires and extensive bandaging.

I tried to ignore the antiseptic odor burning my nose and smiled at Mick.

A wry grin split his handsome but boyish face. “Cool, huh?  There’s this cute girl volunteering and she keeps coming around. I guess I look helpless enough to inspire interest with the opposite sex!” He stopped smiling and coughed, making a face as he did so. “I have a couple broken ribs,” He closed his eyes and laid his head back, the grimace lessening as he breathed slowly.

“Oh my gosh, Mick. This is so horrible,” I murmured and sat down in the chair right by him.

He shook his head. “My fault,” He opened his eyes. “I got to take it easy, but I wanted to talk to you. Your mom went to the cafeteria with my folks.”

I just nodded at him and held his hand, one part that was not wrapped up in gauze.

“I took a break from the route to have a smoke,” He started.

I frowned at him.

“I know, I know. I just wanted to relax, you know?”   He grinned at me while I shook my head disparagingly.

“Whatever. I was sitting at the park, halfway through the route, when I saw this big black thing slinking along the backs of the houses. At first I thought it was a burglar, and I shouted out for it to stop. As soon as its ugly head looked my way, I knew I’d made a mistake. It’s freakin’ eyes were glowing
red
. I was like, crap! I threw my cigarette down and was trying to get back on my bike and then it was right there! Like right there!”

I kne
w my eyes grew round. The houses you could see from the playground were a field away. That thing would have to be very fast, amazingly fast, superhuman-ly fast. I felt my heart rate accelerate as Mick continued.

“It attacked me. It had these claws, and it made fists and punched me and scratched me,” he closed his eyes and frowned at either the memory or the pain, I couldn’t tell which, and it didn’t really matter anyway.

I squeezed his hand gently.

“Something scared it, and it jumped up on top of the jungle gym. I could hear it sniffling and snuffling around like a dog or something. That’s when I called you. I don’t know why I called you. I should have called 911 like a normal person, so I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t be sorry!” I felt a hot tear race down my face and drip off my jaw. “It’s okay now,” I said.

Mick frowned and looked at me. “I am sorry. I lured you there. You could have been next. If it wasn’t for your friend, man, I would have been dead meat,” He shuddered.

“My friend?”  I asked. This was the part I was hoping to get more information about, since William refused to talk about it.

“His name’s William, right?”  He nodded at himself. “He showed up out of nowhere, and pulled this massive sword out and that thing launched at him and they were all fighting and slashing each other and junk. That thing was muttering these weird words and there was blue fire…it was sick!”

I just stared at my cousin. It wasn’t just me. He’d seen it too. And William was pretending like nothing happened. Or at least, that he hadn’t been involved.

“He fought it off, and then we could hear sirens,  and finally,” he looked behind me, as if to make sure no one else was around, “that thing took off!”

I frowned at him this time. “Like ran away?”  I said hopefully.

Mick looked at me seriously. “No, Jane. It took
off
. It
flew
.”

I sat back in my chair. This was too much. At least it explained why William didn’t want to tell me. He didn’t want to sound like he belonged in the loony bin. Like Mick was starting to sound. “Who else did you tell about this?”  I asked him.

A sad expression crossed Mick’s face. “No one. I told them I thought it was some kind of big animal and that William scared it away when he showed up. The thing is,” he looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

I hate
d it when he looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

“I knew no one would believe me. But I thought you would,” He gripped my hand tight. “You do, don’t you?”

I swallowed. I knew what I had seen. But I certainly hadn’t seen anything flying away, or red eyes. But the blue flashes, the glint of the first rays of sun off steel…I had seen that. What was William hiding from me?  I tuned back in to Mick’s earnest face. “Yes. I believe you. But we better keep this to ourselves for now,”

Relief descended on Mick’s features like feather down. “I totally agree. The adults would rather commit the three of us to an asylum then think something crazy like this crap was going on,” I nodded; it was too true.

“What’s the IV for?”  I asked him, as I fluffed his pillow behind his head and tucked his blankets better.

“Antibiotic and rabies junk, I think. You know. If it was a brown bear,” He winked at me, and I had to smile too, even though this was kind of terrifying.

I remembered the slinking black shape William and I had seen yesterday. This was nuts. William shows up and all hell breaks loose. Was there some kind of connection, or was it coincidence?

Zarastrid’s Log Day 230

In the Year of Our Loch 107

I did as Agnes wished. I stayed away. I immersed myself in battle strategies and organizing the parchments that contain our most powerful spells.

I pridefully expected to receive a summons from her, but none came.

When I could wait no longer, just for a glance at her hair shining in the sunlight, I walked to her little home. I found Zeko sniffing around like a dog.

They conversed thusly:

“You’re too good to talk to me, the Battle Loch?” Said Zeko.

“You checked my baby already. There has been no change in two days’ time,” Agnes replied softly.

“You’ll hand the baby to me or pay the consequences,” Zeko said through gritted teeth.

I was unsure. Yes, by vote, I am the head of the Coven of Lochs, but it was never wise for me to assert my authority, particularly in the face of Zeko. I held back but a moment.

“I’ll hand the baby to Zarastrid, none else. The baby belongs to the entire Coven, yes?   You’ll leave my home in peace, or I’ll cry rape,” Agnes seemed to be playing her only card, and there was no guarantee it would work. By all signs, her value to the Coven was diminished. But I heard the confidence in her voice.

Zeko heard it too. Surprisingly, he retreated.

“Maybe later then. I’ll return in one month. Zarastrid will accompany me. You’ll allow us to observe the babe at our whim,” Zeko spoke slowly, as if to a recalcitrant child.

Since I stood around the corner, neither of them saw me, but I could just picture Agnes thrusting her chin upward at him. I smiled in spite of myself. Anyone else would likely end up swallowing their eyeballs through a throat hole. Zeko was a dangerous wizard.

I slinked away, not wanting to confront Zeko after his setting down by a nursemaid of a woman. No doubt we would lose another slave tonight.