Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) (12 page)

My eyes are drawn down the length of the garden hedge
and toward the room next door where I saw the light on again last night. I
glimpse a slight movement as the curtain falls back into place, then I turn and
go inside.
 
 
 
 

 
Chapter 18

Broken

Tastes like: Uncooked
Christmas turkey

Smells like: Sour milk
 

Sounds like: Crying

Feels like: Jagged glass

Looks like: A shattered
window

I’m stoked as Kael walks up the drive, pushing a bicycle
on either side of him. For over a week, I’ve been cooped up, in Nan’s house,
Kael’s car or class. I’m dying to get some exercise and fresh air and the
prospect of meeting other
Maor
my age
intrigues me. I don’t wait for Kael to reach me; I skip down the steps and meet
him halfway across the garden.
 

‘I’ve adjusted the height,’ Kael says, a tiny smile lifting
the side of his mouth. ‘Just try it out and see if it’s okay.’ He holds the
bike steady for me to mount, nods in satisfaction, mounts his own bicycle and pushes
off down the road. I follow, enjoying the beat of the sun on my back and the
rush of the breeze through my hair.

The group Kent has assembled at the Memorial hall is
about twenty large. It’s more than I expected considering the size of this
town. When Kael introduces me to the others, I feel like a spectacle. It’s
obvious they’ve been told about me. I want to shake them out of their awed
expressions.

There is a fair amount of banter as we wait for a few latecomers,
but I don’t participate. I sink into the background and watch, hoping they’ll
forget I’m there. Kael greets a few people, but also seems to prefer being a
spectator. He wheels his bike next to mine and whispers:

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘I just wish they wouldn’t stare at me
like that.’

He laughs a little and the sound makes my wrist flare.

‘You’re kind of the main attraction today.’

I twist my ponytail into a tight spiral and frown at
him.

‘I don’t know why, I mean, there’s nothing special about
me.’

He shakes his head.

‘All our lives, the prophecy has been preached to us.
We’ve been told that one day, someone will come to save us, to restore what was
once ours. Don’t tell them you’re not special.’

I want to argue, but Kael turns away, like he is annoyed
with me. My gaze shifts to the
Maor
youth,
who have clustered in twos and threes, donning helmets and chattering amiably
as they prepare to ride. Some are still casting furtive glances my way, but the
majority has lost interest. They probably think I’m a snob, but that’s better
than being the centre of attention.

Kent moves to the front of the group and starts
pedaling. The rest of the group falls in behind him and we split off into two pentathlons.
I move into the back pentathlon, but it’s not long before they leave me behind.
While I cycle often, I’m not used to the country terrain.

Kael keeps time with me, just a few meters behind. It
doesn’t matter that we’re not with the group. I feel safe and oddly content
knowing that he is here with me. My muscles begin to relax and warm, and after
a while, I loosen my grip on the hand-bars and take my eyes off the ground
ahead.

The scents and scenes of the forest surround me and fill
me up. I start thinking of words to describe what I see. Bright colors, beauty,
life. My feet move against the pedals to the rhythm of my heart-beat. The
breeze caresses my bare arms, face and neck and I hear the whirr of the spokes
as they slice through the crisp air. For the first time in weeks, I feel
free
.

One minute I’m thinking of the word ‘abundance’, the
next, I’m somersaulting through the air. Instinctively, I put my hands out to
soften the landing but as my palms connect with the earth, something snaps and fire
shoots up from my right wrist to my shoulder. I cry out and collapse onto my
back on the ground, clutching my arm.

‘Don’t move,’ Kael says. Within seconds he is kneeling
over me. He reaches for my arm but I wince and pull away. The pain is sending
waves of nausea pulsing through me. If I move, I’m going to puke.

‘Let me look at it. Otherwise I can’t help you,’ Kael
says.

His words penetrate the haze and I shut my eyes and
force myself to remain still as he runs his hands from my shoulder to my wrist.
When his fingers press on my wrist-bone, my eyes fly open and I suck in a quick
breath.

‘Your wrist is broken,’ Kael says.

‘No kidding,’ I gasp and try to pull my hand out of his grasp.
If he doesn’t let go, I’m going to puke.

‘Stop trying to pull away, you’ll just make it worse. Trust
me.’

He releases the pressure on my wrist and I breathe, but
then I feel his fingers rubbing small circles over the inside of my arm. I gag
and try to pull away again, but that just puts coals onto my wrist. Now there
are dark spots swimming in front of me and bitter bile at the back of my
throat.

‘Stop, please,’ I choke, ‘I’m going to pass out.’

Kael lets go of my arm. His face looks concerned and
confused as he rummages in his back-pack and pulls out a bottle of Energade.

‘Drink this.’

I shake my head and keep my mouth tightly closed. If I
open it, I’m definitely going to puke.

‘You must,’ Kael insists, ‘it will make you feel
better.’

He puts the bottle to my lips and squeezes some blue
liquid into my mouth. The minute it hits my tongue, I wrench my head to the
side and heave. Kael pulls my ponytail away and rubs my back gently until my
stomach is empty and I am aching all over.

‘We need to get you home,’ he says.

I don’t know how he’s going to accomplish that feat.
We’re in the middle of a bicycle trail, away from any roads or people. Quite
frankly, I don’t care how he’s going to get me home, just as long as he doesn’t
expect me to be conscious. I just care about my arm. I want to cut it off right
now. I want to pass out. Anything is better than this fire.

Kael tucks my injured wrist against my chest and lifts
me into his arms. I lay my head against his shoulder, take short, panting
breaths, close my eyes and pray for oblivion.

God hears my prayer, because when I open my eyes again,
Kael is standing with me in his arms, on the front porch of Nan’s house. He doesn’t
ring the bell, just shoulders the door open and carries me straight into the
kitchen, where Nan sits at the counter. She turns toward us, her eyes widen and
she scrambles from the chair.

‘What happened?’ she demands as Kael deposits me gently on
the counter top.

‘I’m fine, Nan,’ I say weakly, even though I want to
scream in agony.

‘She fell off her bicycle,’ Kael interjects, ‘broke her
wrist by the looks of it.’

‘Oh,’ Nan frowns at Kael. ‘But why didn’t you –‘

‘It’s not working.’

She looks puzzled but Kael gestures impatiently toward
me and she turns her attention to my hand, now swollen and beginning to turn a
rather unhealthy shade of purple.

‘Let’s have a look.’ She takes the injured appendage in
her hands and begins to rub small circles on my inner arm, the same way Kael did.
I bite my bottom lip and try to keep still but when her fingers begin to
increase the pressure; I yelp and grab my hand away.

‘Are you two trying to kill me?’ I cry. ‘It’s broken.
Rubbing it is not helping!’

Nan and Kael both frown at me and then share a perplexed
look.

‘I don’t think it’s broken, dear.’ Nan’s brow is still
creased as she turns her attention back to my throbbing hand. ‘I think it’s
just cracked. Kael, would you mind getting the first aid kit, please? It’s
under the staircase.’

Kael disappears from the kitchen and returns with a
white box with a large green cross displayed on the lid. The box is caked with
dust and I’m sure hasn’t been used in decades. He flicks the rusty lock and the
hinges actually creek as he opens it. Thankfully, the contents are sealed in
separate wrappings, and he pulls out two clean bandages.

Nan takes the bandages and proceeds to wrap my wrist
with one, before using the other triangular white slip of material to secure my
arm in a sling against my chest.
 
She
opens the cabinet beside my head and pulls out four jars of herbs. They look
like the kind that grows next door on the porch and in Nan’s back garden.

Nan measures out a small quantity of each and crushes
them with an old fashioned mortar and pestle, releasing the scents of basil,
cilantro and rosemary amongst others that I don’t recognize. She pours the dry
mixture into a mug, adds boiling water and a dash of honey, and holds it out to
me.

‘Drink this, it will dull the pain.’

I eye the mug dubiously.

‘Trust me,’ Nan says.

I take the mug from her with my uninjured hand and sip
the concoction gingerly. It doesn’t taste half as bad as I expected, so I gulp
down the rest.

‘Good, now go upstairs and rest a while. The medicine
will make you drowsy.’

I hesitate, glance from Kael to Nan, and exit the kitchen.
The medicine is already taking effect; I’m bone tired and just want to lay my
head down on my soft pillow and forget the throbbing in my arm. As I mount the
staircase, I hear Kael’s hushed voice from the kitchen.

‘Why isn’t it working?’

Chapter
19

 
Attraction

Tastes like: A trail of
Smarties

Smells like: Apple and
cinnamon pie

Sounds like: The sweet
melody of a violin

Feels like: Two magnets
pulling together

Looks like: Children
gathered around a pet shop window

Kael eyes my sling as I climb into the truck Monday
morning. I don’t know what he’s thinking; he looks both angry and guilty at
once, but I can’t think of a reason for him to be either. It was an accident.
One that still hurts like hell, but an accident, and the only person
responsible is me. Why am I so clumsy? Why wasn’t I watching the ground?

‘How’s your wrist?’ he asks as I ease myself into the
seat.

‘It’s a little better.’

‘Sure you don’t want to stay home today?’

‘No, really, I’m fine,’ I insist, as I fumble with the
safety belt. Kael reaches over me, pulls the belt across my body, and clips it
firmly in place. His hand brushes my arm, sending hot shivers down to my wrist,
but then he leans back, starts the engine and eases the truck into the road.

‘Did Tanya’s herbs work?’ Kael asks.

‘I guess,’ I say, ‘it’s a lot less painful.

‘Did she check it again?’

‘Yes, she bandaged it again for me.’

‘So it’s still cracked then?’

I give Kael an ‘are you joking’ glare but he is watching
the road ahead, jaw working in that unique way of his.

‘Of course it’s still cracked, it happened yesterday.
These things take weeks to heal.’

He says nothing and keeps his eyes on the road ahead.

‘Alright, what did I do wrong?’ I demand. I’m sick of
walking on egg-shells around him. Kael turns his head toward me for a second
and gives me a surprised look.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re obviously pissed at me, and I don’t have a clue
why.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Oh come on! You’ve been grumpy and irritable every
morning since I got here, or is that just your normal personality?’

Kael gives me a lob-sided grin.

‘Maybe it is,’ he says.

‘Oh please, I’ve seen you -’
  

A sudden wave of pain slams into my head like a truck. I
clutch my temple with my free hand, stop speaking and gasp.

‘What is it?’ Kael immediately asks in an alarmed voice.
I don’t answer, I can’t. I breathe in deeply and try to regain my equilibrium.
The pain seems to be increasing as the car moves. ‘Shaylee, are you okay?’ Kael
asks again.

The car swerves to the road side and screeches to a halt.
I close my eyes against the nausea and feel Kael’s hands on my arms, on my
cheeks, on my temples. His fingers move in circles, like they did on my cracked
wrist, and like then, I want to scream. Does he really think rubbing my temples
is going to make it better?

‘Please, stop,’ I choke. I move one hand to my stomach.
Along with the nausea, there is a light burning sensation over my butterfly
marking, but it’s mild compared to the drumming in my head.

‘Bloody hell,’ Kael swears. He lets go of me and the car
moves again. I force my eyes open and see that he is making a u-turn. I want to
stop him, but the agony at my temples makes it impossible to speak.
 

Kael puts his foot flat on the accelerator. As the car
moves, I expect my nausea to increase again, but it does the opposite. The
closer we get to Nan’s the better I feel, and by the time we reach Nan’s
driveway, the pain is nothing but a hazy dream.

‘I’m fine now, Kael,’ I say. ‘The pain is gone.’

He looks at me, runs his gaze over me, and shakes his
head.

‘What the hell was that?’

‘I don’t know,’ I admit. ‘It was this intense pain in my
head, but now it’s gone.’

‘Has it happened before?’

I remember the night of my dream, waking up screaming,
but I don’t want to get into that now.

‘No,’ I say.
 

The front door opens and Nan comes hurrying out. Her
expression is fearful as she crosses the lawn toward us. Kael climbs out and
comes around to help me out of the car.

‘What’s wrong?’ Nan asks when she reaches the car. ‘Is
it your arm?’

She runs her gaze down the length of me and when she
seems satisfied that I’m still in one piece, she looks at Kael with a question.

‘She’s okay now, Tanya,’ he says, ‘but let’s go inside
and we’ll explain.’

He slips his arm around my back and guides me across the
lawn, into the house and onto the chaise in the front room. Nan follows us
inside and perches in the arm chair opposite.

‘What happened?’ she asks.

‘I don’t really know,’ I say. ‘One minute I was fine,
and the next, it was like someone stuck a knife in my head.’

‘Did you -’ Nan starts, looking at Kael but he
interrupts her.

‘Yes, but nothing. Again.’

Nan and Kael share another of their conspiratory looks.

‘So it just went away on its own?’ Nan asks.

‘Yes, it kind of faded as we got closer to home. It’s
completely gone now,’ I say.

‘Hmm.’ Kael and Nan both stare at me, like I’m a puzzle
that needs putting together, but they don’t say anything more.
 

‘I’m really okay now,’ I say, ‘I can go to school.’

‘No way,’ Kael says and Nan agrees.

‘You need to rest today, Bluebell. I’ll go make you
something to drink.’

‘I’ll keep you company today,’ Kael says as Nan exits
the room.

‘Oh, I don’t want you to miss school,’ I say hastily but
he shakes his head and gives me a lob-sided grin.

‘You’ll be doing me a favor. I’ve got a quiz today.’

‘But won’t you get in trouble?’

‘No,’ he says simply.

Nan walks back into the room before I can ask how he
will excuse his absence. She hands me a mug of something steaming and I smell
sage, mint and dill. I lift the mug to my lips and honey, thick and sweet,
fills my mouth, concealing the bitter herbs that Nan has crushed into the tea.
  

‘Good,’ she says as I slowly sip the mixture. ‘You’d
better stay on that chaise, Bluebell; the potion will make you drowsy. I’ve got
to go out now but I’ll be back this afternoon, will you be okay?’

‘Of course,’ I say, ‘really, Nan, you don’t need to
worry.’

She frowns at me, and then gives Kael a stern look.

‘Call me if anything happens.’

‘Yes,’ he agrees.

Nan gives me a kiss on the cheek, and then leaves the
room. A moment later, I hear the front door click shut. I look at Kael.

‘How about a card game?’ he suggests. His jaw is working
again and his leg is bouncing but I doubt he’s aware of it. Could it be that
he’s just as nervous about being alone with me as I am?

‘It’ll be a bit tricky for me with one hand, but that
would be nice,’ I say. ‘I don’t know if Nan has any cards though.’

‘She does,’ Kael replies. He goes over to a small table
in the corner of the room and produces a pack of cards from a tiny drawer
hidden in its side. I’m reminded once again that I’m the stranger here. He knows
more about this house and my own family, and my own past than I do.

‘You obviously spend a lot of time here,’ I observe.

‘Yes.’ We’re back to one word answers.

Kael pulls one of the armchairs closer to the opposite
side of the coffee table, deals seven cards to each of us, puts the pack
face-down in the middle and turns the top card around.

‘Hope you remember how to play Rummy? You first.’
 

‘Remember? Did we used to play Rummy together?’

He glances up at me, like he’s surprised at what I asked,
but his jaw works again.

‘It was your favorite game,’ he says, almost reluctantly.
‘When the adults were playing bridge, we’d sit on the floor and play Rummy for
hours, or should I say, you’d thrash me for hours.’

I give him a tentative smile, surprised that he’s shared
this much.

‘It’s still my favorite card game,’ I say, ‘but I don’t
often get to play it, being an only child. Solitaire, on the other hand, I’m pro.’

‘Thank goodness, maybe I’ve got a fighting chance then.’

Kael smiles back at me and I feel like I’ve won a little
war.

We play cards until my sides hurt from giggling and my
stomach rumbles. Kael teases me when he hears the gurgle and goes into the
kitchen to make us something to eat for lunch. I lie back on the chaise, drape
my injured arm across my stomach and close my eyes. I’m like a lazy cat,
basking in the sunlight.

The last few hours have been so relaxing and also
enlightening. The Kael I glimpsed that first weekend, hiding beneath the hard
shell has made a long overdue appearance. This Kael smiles at me lob-sidedly,
laughs and teases. I like him – a lot. I’ve purposely kept the conversation
light in order to draw him out. So far, it’s working.

By the time Kael re-enters the room with a tray filled
with crackers, cheese and fruit, I’m half-dozing. He sets it gently down on the
table but I bolt upright.

‘It’s okay,’ he says, ‘you can have a little nap, you
need it.’

My cheeks feel warm as he sits down, not on the armchair
opposite, but on the chaise beside me. He puts a slice of cheese onto a salt
cracker and offers it to me. As I take it, our fingers brush and that familiar
electric shock courses through me. My first instinct is to pull away, but my
eyes meet his and I leave my hand there, frozen in the act of acceptance.

The electricity surges into me, runs down my arm, to my
wrist, back up and through my body, into his. It heats the marking on my
stomach as it courses the length of me and I see an answering spark in Kael’s
eyes. My heart quickens and my breathing becomes shallow. My wrist scar is no
longer tingling – it’s burning, radiating heat to the very core of me and
making every inch ache.

Kael wrenches his hand away from mine and I realize that
he too, is breathing hard. We stare at one another. My throat feels like
sandpaper, but I force the words out in a hoarse whisper.

‘Is that normal?’

Kael’s eyes dip to my lips as I speak. He shakes his
head and with visible effort, forces them back up to mine.

‘I don’t know,’ he says. He stands abruptly and turns
away from me, shaking his wrist, which, like mine, must still be throbbing,
then he curses and stalks from the room.