Centaur Legacy (8 page)

I looked at Drake and he nodded,
allowing his detainee to go free. He reached his hand toward me,
indicating that I was to let my attacker go free, as well. Drake’s
voice boomed in the quiet room, “We mean no one any harm. We’re
just looking for protection from Camille’s family.”

The old woman raised her brow,
“Protection? Is there a bounty on her?”

“We don’t know. We escaped a few days
ago and thought the only Centaur who could help us was
Zethus.”

“Escaped? What were your crimes?” The
old woman motioned to the table and chairs. My pulse was still
racing, but Drake held a chair out for me to sit. He took the seat
to my right, and the old woman sat on the other side of the
rectangular table. The two men, who looked to be in their
mid-thirties and way past pissed-off, stood tall on either side of
her – glaring at us.

Drake was on a roll, so I made no
effort to answer. “Camille was raised as a human. She was only
recently introduced to her Centaur family. Her grandmother, Zandra
Chiron, held her captive and arranged a marriage for her to the
descendant of Winfield and Unice.”

The old woman clasped her hand over her
mouth in an effort to hold in her surprise. “She was trying to
strengthen the Chiron bloodline, the same as she tried with Angela.
But you two are married, are you not?” She eyed us suspiciously as
if searching our thoughts, trying to break down our
defenses.

We answered together, me saying, “No.”
and Drake saying, “Not yet.”

Stronger than I felt, I explained,
“While I was held captive by Zandra, a guard who was loyal to my
father helped us escape. We’re worried we won’t be able to hide
from her, so we are looking for her brother to see if he could help
us. My father helped us make our way here. We meant no harm to you
or your family.”

The woman pursed her lips together and
gave us a slight nod, “I believe you. How did you think Zethus
would be able to help?”

For some reason, our plan no longer
sounded absurd, so I told her the truth. “We wanted the use of
Hercules’ arrow.”

The woman cackled at us, while smiles
erupted on the faces of the two men standing just behind her. Her
voice was full of humor, “That arrow doesn’t exist. If it did, it
would be so sought after that he who had it in his possession would
be a target for every living Centaur.”

Drake put his arm around me and
squeezed my shoulder. He meant it to be a comforting gesture, but I
couldn’t be comforted. Zandra was probably already on her way to
Ireland after us. There was nothing I could do about it but sit and
wait or try to stay a few steps ahead of her.

As I felt my body repulse at the idea
of coming face-to-face with her, the old woman said, “You two both
look like you could use a good meal and some rest. There’s a wash
room through that door. Get cleaned up; I’ll have dinner ready in
thirty minutes. Once you both have a good night’s rest, you may be
seeing more clearly in the morning.”

I wanted to believe her kind words. She
was a stranger and yet she knew about my mother. She knew my
grandmother. Would she alert Zandra that we were here? Would we
really be safe for one more night?

(Camille – Bed and
Breakfast, Southern Ireland)

Dinner conversation revolved more
around me than I would have liked. I didn’t have any real secrets,
but was not all that comfortable being the center of attention. As
the five of us sat together, it struck me odd that none of the
three had shared their names with us. The older woman asked me,
“So, how is it, Camille, that you were raised human?”

“My mother never told me about being a
Centauride.”

“Angela? She raised you to be a human?
Not a Centauride?”

“Mom never married. She met my father,
William Strayer, a married Centaur. . . briefly. She died a few
months ago and told me who my father was. . . but not what we
were.”

The old woman was quick to pick up on
the nuance that I’d shared, “You were born out of
wedlock?”

I nodded. Both of the two men standing
on either side of her exchanged a glance. I wanted to know what
they were thinking, but I wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough to
listen to their thoughts while carrying on a conversation with the
woman. To date I’d only been able to “listen in” with Phineas, and
it was just the one time. She asked, “So how did she explain your
abilities?”

I hated admitting this part, “It never
came up.”

“Listening to others’ thoughts and
talking to the spirit world never came up?”

“She never actually showed me how to do
it.”

“What about your
grandmother?”

“She was more interested in teaching me
Greek mythology than how to use the skills that every other
Centauride seems to have at birth.” Drake put a hand on my knee and
gave me a reassuring squeeze. He knew I felt inadequate every time
the subject of Centauride skills came up.

“So, you do not . . . “

I cut her off before she could finish
her question, “It’s sporadic.” I didn’t want her to know I was
worthless as a Centauride. “My stepmother, Gretchen, offered to
help me, but I haven’t had much time alone with her.”

“It’s really much easier than that, my
dear. You are tense; I can see it on your face. I can feel it in
your demeanor. Relax your mind and listen to the voice that speaks
to you from the inside. You need only accept who you
are.”

“I’m tense because from the moment I
found out Centaurs were real, I’ve been jerked every which
direction. My inner voice just keeps telling me to go back to being
human and forget about everything.”

She shook her head at me and shared a
knowing smile, “No. Your inner voice guides you. ‘Twas my inner
voice that told me you needed me when you arrived on my front porch
unannounced. It’s my voice that tells me: you speak the truth. It’s
also my inner voice that tells me you have a long journey ahead of
you. Listen to yours; it will tell you exactly where you need to
be.”

Drake confessed, “I convinced Camille
to come to Ireland. It was a huge waste of time since Zethus is
dead. We don’t have any defense against Zandra.” Drake, for the
first time since our journey began, doubted himself.

The old woman nodded, “You are both
fierce warriors. You are deceptively strong and quick. Any who
attack you will not expect such a fight. Isn’t that right, boys?”
Her eyes twinkled as she good-naturedly jeered her two sons who had
been rendered helpless in a matter of seconds by Drake and me. “Get
some rest. You fall under my household’s protection this evening.
No harm will come to you while you rest. You have my
word.”

I offered to help with the dishes, but
she wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, the woman escorted us upstairs,
to two awaiting rooms. My heart sank. After all of today’s
disappointments, I couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping
alone.

Drake held up a hand, “I’m sorry,
Ma’am. Camille is my responsibility. Her father has entrusted her
to my care.”

Irritated at Drake’s suggestion, she
answered. “You know the rules, young Nash.”

“Yes, Ma’am, I do. But I am sworn not
to let her out of my sight.”

The old woman’s skepticism shone while
she addressed me, “Miss Camille, our customs do not permit an unwed
Centauride and Centaur in the same sleeping quarters.”

I tried to mask my exhaustion, “We
don’t want to be disrespectful of your home. Thank you for your
kindness. We will find our way back to town.” I absently reached
down and took Drake’s hand in mine.

Her eyes moved to our intertwined
hands, another obvious disregard for customs on my part. Clearly
frustrated with my answer, “I told you, you both fall under my
house’s protection tonight. You will be perfectly safe
here.”

Drake’s voice was gentle, “Ma’am, she
has been through a lot. I won’t leave her alone. Even just across
the hall is too far for me to be sure of her safety.”

Her brows furrowed and her lips pursed
together tightly. She guffawed and asked the question she already
knew the answer to, “No funny business?”

Without hesitation, Drake answered, “On
my honor as her Centaur.”

“Very well. It seems this arrangement
has her father’s blessing. Who am I to stand in the way?” She held
open the door closest to us and motioned for us to go inside, then
closed it behind us.

I had so many questions, like: How did
Drake know they were Centaurs? How did we get the jump on the
Centaurs who were both so much larger than we were? Could we trust
the old woman? Why didn’t she give us her name or introduce us to
her sons?

I turned around, ready to ask him all
these questions and more when he whispered, “Where did you learn to
fight like that?”

I pushed on both his shoulders, trying
not to laugh, “I went to public school in Oceanside, Drake.” I
softly punched him in the shoulder, “We make a pretty good
team.”

My face buried itself in his chest as
his arms wound around me. I could feel his smile without seeing it.
“I won’t worry about you in a bar brawl, that’s for sure. What
possessed you to try turning the guy into Dumbo?”

I shook my head, still smiling at how
impressed he’d been with my non-Centauride skills. “Everyone goes
for the groin or the knees in a fight, but thirty-five pounds of
pressure and you can actually rip someone’s ear off. It’s one of
the most sensitive parts of the body.”

Drake’s hands were running the length
of me. Those familiar shivers set my body ablaze when he whispered,
“You’re so hot when you’re kicking the crap out of
Centaurs.”

“Funny. So, now that we know my
great-uncle’s dead and there’s no arrow, what do we do next?” I
didn’t mean for it to sound negative, but I hoped he’d have another
idea.

“I’ll send a text to the pilot tonight.
We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

“For where?”

“You’re the Centauride, Camille. You’re
taking point.”

“What?”

“You can’t do any worse than I’ve done.
Sleep on it. Something will come to you.”

Talk about pressure. I must have stared
at the ceiling for two hours, memorizing a water spot that looked
strikingly similar to Sagittarius. I was becoming far too immersed
in this whole thing. Since Drake was leaving it up to me, we were
going to San Diego. If the U.S. Government couldn’t find two
hundred thousand illegal immigrants there, then there was a good
chance Zandra wouldn’t be able to pinpoint us, either.

I felt a wave of peace settle over me.
I’d be home soon – my home. No more Centaur rules, Centaurides,
crazy relatives – just awesome Carne Asada burritos, sunshine,
sand, and Drake. After I’d made the decision, sleep found me
quickly.

*****

Drake held me tightly while we slept,
his arm making an uncomfortable but welcomed pillow. My eyes opened
to the pre-dawn light streaming in through the window. I felt
Drake’s muscles tense around me as he pulled me closer to him, and
his voice, strong and unyielding, said, “Who the hell are
you?”

I jerked the rest of the way awake. An
old man sat in a chair just a few feet away from us. He didn’t
waste any time when he said, “Well, top o’ tha marnin’ to ya.
Thought you two might sleep the marnin’ away.”

Drake sat straight up, pulled his shirt
from the nightstand, and he was yanking it hard over his head when
he asked, “What do you want?” Very subtly, Drake motioned for me to
slide behind him.

“I should be asking you that question.
Eadie says you’re lookin’ far me.”

She had told us we would be safe in her
home, but waking up to a strange man watching us didn’t feel like
much security. Ignoring Drake’s hand still trying to move me behind
him, I scowled, “Who are you?”

“Well – me friends call me Jeb, but me
mather named me Zethus. I understand you two air lookin’ for a
family heirloom?”

Zethus’s accent made it nearly
impossible to understand him. Everyone we’d met had an Irish
accent, but it was subtle. The only time we had really heard
pronounced accents was in the few pubs we had stopped in, and only
when there was drinking involved.

I sat up straighter, “You’re my
great-uncle, Zethus? But how? She told us you were
dead.”

“You aren’t the firs’ to come lookin’
for me. She tells er’eyone I died. Wishful thinkin’ on her part, if
you ask me! No. . . you’re the firs’ that’s looked for me in more
than twenty years.”

“I’m Camille. This is my. . . this is
Drake. Your sister, Zandra, is my grandmother.”

“How is the ol’ bat?”

“She’s actually pretty pissed off at me
right now.”

When he laughed, his whole face lit up.
He was covered in wrinkles, deep set around his eyes. It looked
like he hadn’t seen a razor in weeks. He wore a cabbie hat and a
tweed scarf, his skin looked like he’d worked hard his whole life,
but his face was warm, and his eyes were the same brown as
mine.

“Eadie says she tried to arrange a
marriage you were no’ in favor o’ – she had bigger plans for you,
did she?”