How I Found You (14 page)

Reluctantly, I stood up and stretched out my arms. This was most definitely a conversation that I’d rather avoid. I suddenly had enormous empathy for the Grim Reaper.

Poor guy. That must be a tough job.

Before I left the attic, I crept over to Rose. She was definitely sleeping, so I didn’t wake her. But I brushed the hair from her face and kissed the top of her head.

I exhaled heavily.

Here we go.

It didn’t take me long to get back to my own bedroom, and that was even with the dawdling I did along the way. I let myself into the room and shut the door behind me.

Caicus was sitting atop his daisy bedspread. He looked surly, to say the least.

“Honey, I’m home,” I joked.

He glared at me.

Point taken. Not a great time for humour.

He looked at me with his I-hate-you
face.

“Tell me you got the talisman back.”

Wow.
He was still on that? He was way behind.

I’d almost forgotten that all of this had started with the stolen talisman. Boy, was he in for a shock.

“I did,” I said.

“And? Where have you been all night?”

“With Rose. Did Mary ask about the hole in the bathroom door?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I said I fell into it. Why were you with Rose?”

This was what experts call the pull-the-plaster-off-quickly technique.

“I told her.”

Caicus froze.

“Are you…okay?” I hovered at a safe distance from him, weighing his expression. Which was wide eyed and blank, by the way. Like a taxidermy rabbit.

“Hello?” I snapped my fingers in his line of vision.

“What did you tell her?” he asked in a stony voice.

“Um…” Lies or truth? Lies or truth? Truth. “Everything.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips so tightly that they turned white.

“In my defence,” I added, “she figured it out for herself. Well, most of it.”

“You told her that we’re witches?” Caicus seethed through clenched teeth.

“That’s the part she worked out for herself.”

“You told her about the prophecy?”

“Yes. I had to.”

“Why?” he hissed.

“I don’t know, Caicus. She just asked me.”

“Then you lie!” he shouted.

“I couldn’t. Anyway, what difference does it make? She’d already figured out that we’re witches.”

“So, then what? You told her we were sacrificing her to Lathiaus and she was just
okay
with that?”

“Well, not exactly,” I stammered.

“Don’t
not exactly
me!”

“I left out some parts.”

“But you told her about the prophecy?”

“Yes.”

He frowned at me. “What, you conveniently left out the tiny detail of her death? Which, you might say, features highly in the narrative?”

“No. I explained that her death is foretold…”

Caicus massaged his temples. Thick strands of blonde hair coiled around his fingers.

“I’m confused,” he said.

“Me too,” I chuckled.

“Oscar,” he barked, “explain to me how it’s possible that she’s simply accepted the fact that we’re going to kill her?”

“I didn’t tell her that we planned to kill her.”

Caicus hesitated. “Okay. That could work.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Things will go somewhat smoother if she doesn’t know what we’re doing.” He relaxed slightly. “Okay. Good work. Sorry I went all Sergeant Major
on you.”

“Yeah, no problem. But I should tell you one other thing.”

He stiffened again. “Yes?”

“I’m not going to do it.”

Caicus stared at me for a long, tense moment. I waited for his response with bated breath. It was taking a while. I considered offering to put the kettle on.

But then, he reacted. “What exactly are you
not
going to do?”

“Kill her. I can’t do it.” 

Caicus fell silent again. He sat there so still that I was pleasantly surprised by how calm he was about the whole thing.

He was taking this better than expected.

And then he let out an almighty roar. He leapt off his bed and dived on top of me like a rabid dog.

We tumbled to the floor and scuffled around, colliding into furniture, and walls, and whatever else happened to have the misfortune of being in our path.

“Caicus!” I yelled. “Get off me, you lunatic!”

He took a swipe at my face, which I dodged, causing his fist to pound into the carpet. Ha.

“I knew you’d do this to me, Oscar!” he howled. “This is typical of you!”

“Typical of me?” I shot back. “Oh yeah, this is classic me. I’m always
not killing
people.”

He heaved his weight on top of me and pressed my face into the carpet—which I’d only just noticed was the most putrid shade of brown I’d ever seen.

“You may be
not
killing her, but you’re happy enough to be killing me!”

That hit me harder than any punch could have.

I stopped trying to wriggle free of him and instead just lay on the floor, defeated. I waited for him to dole out his beating. But it never came.

Caicus flopped down on the carpet beside me. Neither of us spoke for what may have been five or so minutes.

I made the first move. “So…” I said, sprawled out on the floor, twiddling my thumbs. “Is your hand okay?”

“Yes,” he mumbled.

I waited a minute or two before I tried again.

“This carpet is ass-ugly, isn’t it?”

Caicus let out a weary sigh.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s vile.”

Good. We were friends again.

“Sorry I… you know, took you down,” he offered his olive branch.

I glanced at him. He was staring up at the ceiling.

“I deserved it,” I replied.

“Oscar?”

“Yeah?”

“Please, don’t do this.”

I sat upright and shuffled back until I was leaning against the wall.

“What am I meant to do, Caicus?” The despair in my voice was strange to hear. I didn’t like it.

Caicus sat up, too. “Just stick to the plan,” he beseeched me. “Don’t do this. Not for some girl.”

“She’s not
some girl
.” All of a sudden I was overtly protective, as though he’d slandered her somehow. “What can I do? I can’t let her die.” I pondered over it for a moment. “But I can’t let you die, either.”

“Well, you can’t have it both ways,” he pointed out.

“I know that.”

“Stick to the plan,” he said again. “Look, if you save her, then only she survives. Not even you. What would be the point in that? You won’t even get the glory for doing it.”

“I don’t care about the glory. I just…”

“What?” he pressed.

“I don’t know. I just don’t want her to die.”

Caicus raked his hands through his hair. “Oscar, please, I’m begging you, don’t do this.”

I swallowed. This was impossible. Sitting with Caicus, my brother, my best friend, I knew that there was no way—
no way
—I could let him die.

Funny, though. The most astonishing thing about tackling this dilemma was that there was one person whose wellbeing I had no interest in accounting for. Mine. It was an odd feeling. You naturally assume your own life will always be most precious to you, but when you’re forced to choose between yourself and the two most important people in your world,
yourself
immediately becomes expendable.

It was either her, or him.

Time to pledge your allegiance.

The Fractured Heart

ANOTHER HOUR PASSED BY AS
Caicus and I remained on the floor.

We talked—mostly in short, emotionally charged bursts, followed by long spells of silence.

I despised the fact that I was beginning to yield. When I was with Rose, it was all so clear: I was saving her. End of story. But my mulish friend did a first-rate job of presenting the opposing argument. Caicus made damn sure to drill his standpoint into my head. I’m talking pneumatic power tools, here.

“You must think of the bigger picture,” he said.

I stared at him, fearful that he was slowly breaking down what I’d thought had been an impenetrable wall.

“I know you want to save her,” he went on, “and that’s just…well, that’s just swell. But think about what you’re doing, Oscar. It’s selfish.”

I looked down at the carpet.

“This isn’t about
the one
, it’s about
the many
. You’ve known that from the start.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to,” he stated frankly. “It’s not your place to interfere with her destiny.”

I punched the floor in frustration. “Then why are we here? Why did I have the dreams? I was sent here to save her—”

“No, you weren’t,” Caicus cut me off. “You were sent here to save an entire race of witches. You were sent here for the greater good. Maybe this is your test.”

I frowned.

“It’s your time to step up,” he insisted, “and do what you know is right. Save the world. Save
our
world.”

I bit down on my lip until I drew blood. I wanted to feel the pain. I wanted to feel something other than the agonising ache of my impasse.

Caicus studied me watchfully.

I licked the trail of blood from my lower lip and then spoke again. “I can’t do it.”

“You won’t need to. I’ll do it.” He gave me a look of loyal solidarity. The sunlight gleaming through the window caught in his powder blue eyes. “I’ll do it,” he repeated in earnest. “All I ask of you is to accept it.”

My mind swam. Deep down, I knew Caicus was making sense. One life in exchange for many. And this was Rose’s destiny.

But what was mine?

In the solitude of my head, I recounted the words of the prophecy.

It is foretold, on the day of his end,

so doth life begin

At the stroke of the eleventh hour,

he shall awaken

All will bow before him

All will perish at his mercy

Only one can end the blood spill  

She, the girl with the heart of a witch

Before the hour turns to twelfth,

she must grant him her death

Two will take her to him, and all will be spared

Two will turn away, and all will be slaughtered

Our fate awaits              
  

I sighed. Damn it.

“Oscar,” Caicus reached out and gripped my shoulder, “I’m sorry. You know that, don’t you? If there was any other way…”

I nodded.

“I’ll do it all,” he assured me—as if the consolation was worth anything more than the breath it was spoken with. “The only thing I ask of you is to turn away.”

Turn away
, I thought, noting how ironic his choice of wording was.

“Can you do that?” he persisted.

What other choice did I have?

I nodded my head.

There was a knock on our bedroom door.

On reflex, I identified the scent in the air. It wasn’t Rose.

“Come in,” Caicus sang out.

Neither of us was surprised when Mary poked her head around the door.

“Hello, boys,” she beamed, not venturing beyond the doorway.

“Hello, Mary,” we replied in unison.

She peered down at us, to where we sat on the carpet, clearly thinking it strange.

Caicus and I shared a look.

“Now, boys,” Mary carried on, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper, “I’ve come to talk to you about
the big day
.”

The hairs on the back of my neck bristled.

How the hell does
she
know about the big day?

Caicus began to babble. “No. Truly, Mary, it’s not what you think—”

I cleared my throat to interrupt him. “Big day?”

Mary’s eyes widened and she held her finger up to her lips. “Shh.” She glanced over her shoulder into the hallway.

“Sorry,” I mouthed. “Big day?”

“You know… the big
one-seven
.”

What’s a big one-seven?
Caicus asked me silently.

How should I know?
I responded.
Must be some kind of woman thing.

Mary looked at us expectantly.

“Yes,” I said slowly. “The big one-seven. Very exciting.”

She gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

What was going on here?

I returned her thumbs-up, which seemed to please her.

Is the big one-seven something to do with Lathiaus?
Even in silence, Caicus’s tone was frantic.
She knows, doesn’t she?

No, of course she doesn’t know.
My brow creased in irritation.
She doesn’t know a thing. She doesn’t even know what day of the week it is.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Caicus smile.

Hey, Oscar,
he signalled to me mischievously,
what day of the week is it?

I don’t bloody know,
I huffed.
And stop smiling; she’ll think you’re a crackpot.

“So,” Mary continued, deaf to our private conversation, “how about we go to Hutton Ridge and pick up a few things? We’ve only got a few days left.”

“A few days?” I echoed.

“Yes. It’s on Friday.”

Oh, that’s right. It was Wednesday.

It’s Wednesday,
I hissed to Caicus. Ha.

“Friday,” Caicus chimed in. “The big one-seven.”

“Yes,” Mary’s cheeks puffed out to allow for her enormous smile.

“What the hell is the big one-seven?” I blurted out.

Oh damn
, I winced. I hadn’t intended on saying that aloud.

Caicus laughed nervously.

But Mary didn’t appear fazed by my brash tone. She merely smiled and said, “Seventeen. Rose’s seventeenth birthday.”

My jaw dropped. “She didn’t tell me.”

“No?” Mary wasn’t particularly shocked by this. “Rose doesn’t like to make a fuss over birthdays. Especially with her parents being away and all. That’s why I’d like to do something special for her. Make it a really nice day.”

I nodded my head, speechless.

“Great,” Mary chirped. “Shall we head off now, before Rose wakes up? I’ve just checked on her and she’s sleeping like a baby.”

I felt a familiar twist in my gut. I was reluctant to leave Rose while she was sleeping, but Caicus answered for both of us, and the next thing I knew, I was on my feet and heading downstairs.

As we made our way out of the house, I heard Caicus call noiselessly to me.

Oscar…

I decided to ignore him. I wasn’t in the mood for banter.

Oscar!
he tried again.

What?
I relented.

We stepped outside onto the gravel and Mary unlocked the minivan. Caicus rested his hand on my shoulder.

What?
I looked at him. He was beginning to scare me now.

Her birthday,
Caicus recapped what we already knew.
Friday is her birthday.

Yes. I was there too, remember?
I replied dryly.

Mary fastened baby Zack into the back seat and I climbed in beside him. Caicus hovered at the open car door.

“Get in then,” I said to him.

He didn’t move.

What?
I demanded.

Her birthday
. Caicus stared at me. ‘
On the day of his end, so doth life begin.’

Suddenly it became clear to me.

Rose’s birthday would be Lathiaus’s resurrection day.

THE CAR JOURNEY TO HUTTON
Ridge was glaringly tense. I didn’t utter a word, not silently or aloud. My eyes were glued to the window, watching the trees whizz by. At one stage, I looked down to find that I was gripping the edge of Zack’s car seat. My knuckles were white with the vigour of my grasp.

Mary and Caicus chattered casually in the front of the car and the radio crackled in and out of slushy love songs.

I envied how blasé Caicus was. He rambled on about God knows what and even sang along to the maudlin ballads. But of course, he could do that; he didn’t care about Rose. He could belt out all the love songs in the world without it blitzing his heart to smithereens.

I glanced at the kid beside me.

Come on, child, say something,
I willed.
Tell me something profound. Help me out here, friend.

Kid made a few uncouth spit bubbles.

“Well said,” I muttered, using my T-shirt to wipe the drool from his chin. “I’ll send you the dry-cleaning bill.”

Zack hiccupped.

“Another excellent point,” I congratulated him.

Why did it have to be so soon? Today was Wednesday, and that left only two days. Two days was not enough. It wasn’t enough time to tell her everything. It wasn’t enough time to sit with her, listening to her speak and breathe.

I closed my eyes. Sometimes if I concentrated especially hard, I could hear the sound of Rose’s heartbeat. I tried to bring it to me now, but my consciousness wouldn’t allow it. All I could hear was the purr of the car engine and the drone of Caicus singing Frank Sinatra’s My Way.

Shut up
. I covered my ears. The lyrics rang a little too close to home for my liking. One man’s struggle to step up and see things through to the final curtain…

Caicus grew louder with each verse, his voice crooning above the stereo now.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.
What angered me most of all, was that I didn’t get a
my way
. It was their way or no way.

Caicus filled his lungs for the big note.

Don’t do it
, I warned him silently.

Too late. He was going for it.

“
My
Way.”

“Shut up!” I kicked the back of his seat.

He stopped singing abruptly. Mary snuck a glimpse at me in the rear view mirror.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Sorry, Oscar,” Caicus said as he peered over his shoulder at me.

“I don’t like that song,” I fabricated. But of course, Caicus knew the real reason. 

He switched off the radio and we fell into stony silence.

The hush of the car didn’t do much in the way of alleviating the tension. And we resided in that prickly atmosphere until we reached Hutton Ridge.

Mary backed into a parking space on the high street and unfastened her seatbelt.

“Here we are,” she sang merrily.

Obviously.
I rolled my eyes.

With my tolerance already wearing thin, I stepped out onto the kerb.

“Okay,” Mary began as she fussed with Zack’s pushchair, “there’s a nice little jewellery shop just up on Culver Street. What do you say we go there first?” She slung her handbag over her shoulder.

“Sounds splendid,” Caicus set a flawless smile on his lips.

I kicked at the cobbled road. This was torture. I was away from Rose
and
I had to go to a jewellery shop. This was the worst day ever.