Halfblood Journey

by Rheaume, Laura

  He frowned at a trio of ribbons which wove themselves together into a singular thick one; it reached out in his direction, getting thinner as it moved farther away from Mercy. When it got close enough, he swatted at it with a bit of his power; the tendril jumped back and then stretched out again. On the third attempt, the ribbon leapt forward, wrapping itself around Scythe’s leg. This time, he could detect the trail of a thought from it.

  When her power fused with his, he could feel the yearning and the helplessness from what must have been Mercy’s dream. Then, a word flitted by that was tightly packed with the same feelings: Scythe. With a start, he smacked the ribbon off himself and left the room, taking up a post outside the door.

  The small office that they had converted to a recovery room opened up to a fair sized courtyard, around which the building wrapped itself on four sides. Each room was accessed from that space, although some of the rooms extended to a second story that could be reached from stairs inside. The patio was bustling both with members of the Scere’s third military unit as well as employees of their host, a merchant company named Huran, Inc., which did very well trading local products, mostly food, to the continent’s cities, the closest of which was Sonora. The company was happy to provide a temporary base of operations for the soldiers, in the hopes that it would be protected from the raids that several of its neighbors had suffered from recently. To accommodate them, many of the offices in the entrance courtyard were being emptied and temporarily refit to make sleeping and working spaces for both the Kin unit and the expected Human unit.

  Scythe stood to the side of the open door, arms folded lightly across his chest, and watched the bustling movement in the courtyard. Kin that passed him generally did so without acknowledging him. He didn't mind; he wanted them to keep their distance. Those that knew him and his abilities averted their eyes if they could not give a wide enough berth to avoid even that; no one approached him. No one had reason to, which was the way he liked it. He had long settled into his place in Kin society, and he was comfortable, now, being left alone. It was like wearing a snug glove that fit perfectly.

  Almost as soon as he settled into place, a low, quiet chuckle bubbled up in his mind. It startled him because he hadn’t been tempted by it in a while; the loss of that voice was one of the major benefits of the life he had carved out for himself. He tried to disregard it, but it wasn't in the mood to be ignored.

  Why don’t you just go? Isn’t that what you want to do? Leave her.

  Scythe knew that he should do just that. Given the situation, the smart thing was to shelter himself from the storm that he knew was already headed his way. He had become very good at safely navigating his dangerous world. He had learned to walk away, had done it so many times over the years that it was reflexive for him to brush off those hungry for a piece of him: the desperate, the greedy, the manipulative, the powerless. He had learned how to untangle himself from their problems; he had freed himself.

  But, he couldn’t do it this time. There were a few people that he was not capable of turning his back on, and Ian’s child was one of them.

  Why? You are just going to screw up everything you’ve worked all this time for…

  He quelled its excitement with a thought, You can shut the hell up. Unsurprisingly, it did. It was weak and had been powerless to influence him for quite a while.

  He breathed slowly, drawing oxygen into his system and easing into a comfortable position. He hadn’t slept much, and didn’t know when he would be able to get a full night’s sleep, now that Mercy’s departure was set back. He knew that he couldn’t afford to leave her unattended until she was safely reunited with her family, and there was no one here he would trust in his place. He would be forced to stay close to her, catching short naps when possible. Fortunately, his reputation ensured that no one would take him lightly. If anyone wanted to do something like snatch a girl that was the single witness to an attack by a group known for not leaving witnesses, it would have to be fully thought out and well-manned, and have a fairly high acceptable loss factor.

  However, if the Humans didn’t get here before Mercy was supposed to leave for Sonora, he would be forced to accompany her into a politically charged situation. Then they would be surrounded by enemies of the worst type. His plan was for the Humans to arrive before that could happen.

  With a mental sigh and a deep breath, he released his mind, letting go of bothersome matters for the time being. He poured out his thoughts and embraced as much as possible an empty state in which he just was. It wasn’t a complete release, because he also needed to attend to what was going on around him. It was like being a statue guardian, empty on the inside but keenly aware of everything around it. Of course, his preferred mediation was to be just the statue: strong and still.

  He stood watch for six hours like that, breaking only for a meal and an occasional stretch, before a stirring in the room behind him drew his attention. A very weak Mercy stared at him as he crossed to her bedside. He poured her a cup of water from the pitcher and helped her to sit up, propping pillows behind her back. She stopped trying to croak out something intelligible long enough to take a drink.

  Belatedly, he warned, reaching for the cup, “Only sip it.”

  Driven by what must have been a compelling thirst, she had immediately taken too much. Before she even finished the third gulp, a fearful realization was born in her eyes. He caught the cup and leaned forward with his hand on her back when she doubled over, crying out from the pain of an intense stomach cramp. The yell ran smoothly into a succession of sobs and went on for over half a minute, at the end of which, he helped her lay back on the pillows.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, mopping her head with a rag, “I should have warned you.”

  She shook her head, dismissing his words. Then, after two tries through cracked lips and a powder dry throat, she managed to say, “Scythe. I’ve missed you.” She reached out with what little strength she had and tipped her body forward a few inches for a hug.

  “Lie back. You’re very weak right now,” he said without moving. He wasn’t in the slightest tempted to embrace her; in fact, the idea bothered him a lot.

  She leaned away from his harsh tone and pulled her arms to her chest, her hands curling closed. Brown eyes, suddenly large and unsure, stared at him from a flushed face, “What’s the matter? Are you mad at me?”

  “No, I’m not mad at you, Mercy, but I am mad at somebody. You almost died in that building. If we had arrived here a day later, I’d be mailing your dead body home.” Saying it out loud made him realize that he was more than a little upset. The thought of finding her dead made things inside of him squirm and that angered him.

  “I’m so…”

  He cut off her apology, “Don’t be sorry, just tell me what the hell you are doing out here.”

  “Well,” she tried to swallow and then looked over at the water.

  “Just sip,” he said, handing it to her.

  “Will it happen again?”

  “Yes.”

  Since she was used to being comforted in the Human tradition, his response surprised her. She gave him a look that was both horrified and sad, before she put it aside, nodded and took another tiny drink of water. This time, she let just a few drops pass between her lips. Then she spoke, “I had this vision. Do you know what I mean by vision?”

  Scythe nodded, remembering how astounded her family was to have her power fully manifest before she was even nine years old.

  “It was about the freedom fighters out here…”

  “You saw the terrorists?” He sat up and leaned forward intently.

  “Yeah. Anyhow, I saw them attack a city and, well, mom and dad are out on an extended duty, so I got myself assigned…”

  He shook his head. “The Humans did not assign you to one of their units,” he said with certainty.

  “Well, not right away, but eventually…”

  “Mercy, I know you’re lying. You’re heart is beating like a canary.” T
his is too much of a hassle. He leaned closer and focused his power. He looked into the depths of her eyes.

  Mercy sank back into her pillow, instinctively cautious. “I’m not lying.”

  He barely heard her. For the first time in years, his ability didn’t immediately take effect. There was a resistance to it that he had not felt before. More curious than anything, he pulled his gaze out and looked at her face. The expression that he saw there startled him: she looked like she was afraid to believe what she was seeing, afraid to acknowledge that he might hurt her. It was her expression that made him realize that, without even considering it, he had been about to do that very thing. He frowned briefly, thinking, Am I so casual with my gift?

  With a mental sigh, he shelved the thoughts of his power and her natural resistance to his ability for later examination, and he accepted that he would have to get the information from her the hard way.

  “Okay then, tell me how you got assigned to a military unit.” To calm her, he leaned back in the chair, crossed his arms, and put his feet up on the edge of her bed.

  Naively ignoring her instincts, she immediately laid her hand on his boot, explaining, “I, well, I forged Dad’s permission, making it look like he knew all about it.” Two thin tendrils separated themselves from her arm and wound their way through the air toward his leg.

  “Don’t,” he said seriously and waited until the energy dissipated before continuing. “You made up some fake documents, and they fell for that?”

  “Well, he kinda wanted to believe it anyway…” She took another sip, just enough to hold a small pool of water in her mouth.

  Scythe shook his head incredulously, “That madhouse is just as asinine as ever. And?”

  “And nothing. I told him about the vision and I said that if I came out here, chances were that I would have another.”

  “Who? Wait, does everyone know about your power?” he asked. If it was common knowledge in the city, then there was no way that the Kin did not already know. He began to recalculate the odds of helping her.

  “No. Well, I don’t think so. I just told Grant about my vision.”

  Scythe nodded, and the stitch in his shoulders loosened minutely. Grant was a friend of her family and could be trusted. “How did he explain your involvement?”

  “He didn’t have to; he was there.” She blinked, and her mouth opened for the next word but then became fixed in place. In the silence, Scythe watched the bubble she was in burst. “He…” Her eyes flew wide, touring the room before returning to him. She frantically clutched his boot and asked, “Did you...did you see him?” A large breath expelled heavily from her chest once and the ones that followed came faster, causing her face to flush even redder. “Did you…”

  “Calm down. Here take another sip, and breathe slowly.” He waited until she complied before speaking. “I’m sorry, Mercy,” Scythe said, remembering the man who had risked himself more than once to help him and the Young family, “No one else survived the ambush.”

  “No!” She began to cry, and either the crying or the water she had drunk brought on another contraction. She lay there limply afterward, letting the tears drip down her face until another thought made her gasp. She gave him a desperate stare, “Do you think...Is it my fault he died?”

  He thought carefully before answering, “Was he assigned out here?”

  She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking for a moment before she could answer. “He was there to escort me. No one knew why I was there, only he did.” She pleaded with him, “It isn’t my fault, is it?”

  Scythe knew that the Human thing to do was comfort her, to lie to her. But Scythe had always been more Kin than Human. Instead of answering, he just gazed at her, waiting.

  Sobered by his honesty, she began to nod repeatedly, wiping at the tears that ran down her face. She had exhausted nearly all her limited energy and fell back to lay numbly against the pillows. She managed to whisper, “I guess it is. Of course it is my fault. Gran always talked about how every decision has a cost. I didn’t really understand what she meant before.”

  Scythe asked, “Your grandmother?”

  “My mom’s mother. She lived with us for a couple of years, but she moved back to Torwin.”

  Scythe nodded, “She’s right. The consequences of following the vision are yours now to live with. Now, if you had been successful in helping find the terrorists, instead of being their victims, then you would be congratulating yourself rather than suffering. You didn’t know which way it was going to turn out when you started, did you?”

  She shook her head, “No.”

  Noting that her breathing was growing more labored and sweat beads were forming on her forehead again, Scythe decided to ask about something that had been bothering him before she needed to rest again. “Is what you said about having more visions true?” When she stared at him blankly, he clarified, “You told them that you might have more visions if you came out to where the vision was supposed to happen.”

  He knew the answer as soon as her body shifted slightly on the bed. “Well, it’s not likely,” she had the good sense to confess. “But, it does happen sometimes.”

  “I can’t believe you put yourself in this mess on purpose,” Scythe shook his head. He was frustrated by the fact that he couldn't see out how her movements had been manipulated by the Kin. Someone, perhaps a member of one of the Scere factions, must have engineered their meeting, but he couldn’t figure out how or what the motivation was. “Why would you do that? You’re only fourteen, Mercy. Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your friends at the mall or something?”

  She wiped at her forehead, shaking her head at the water that Scythe offered her. Then she answered with the hint of her aunt Lena’s feisty spirit, “You are one to talk. You saved all those people in the hospital at my age.”

  He held her gaze steadily, refusing to be sidetracked, “You didn’t answer the question. Why, Mercy?”

  She looked away from him, “I wanted to help.”

  “You wanted to help. You can’t even look at me when you say that. You are such a bad liar, Mercy, that it is embarrassing to watch.”

  She grit her teeth and shot him an angry glare, “I’m not lying.”

  Scythe frowned at what his senses told him was a truthful statement, “Well, something’s off with your story.”

  Mercy kept her mouth shut obstinately, so Scythe picked up the cup and handed it to her. “Here, two sips only,” he ordered and they both waited to see what would happen.

  When she didn’t double over, he got up and pushed her pillow down, forcing her to lay back. “You need to sleep. Are you hungry?”

  “Not really, but I should be. Are they feeding me with this thing?” she asked, lifting up her arm to indicate the tube that went from her wrist to the IV bag hanging by her bed.

  “Yes. Now get some rest.” He covered the shades on several of the glow lamps.

  “I’m not tired,” she protested even though her eyes were already drooping closed. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Well, I don’t want to talk to you, so go to sleep.” He headed for the door.

  Startled by his movement to the exit, she tried to sit up. Immediately, she sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed her side. He could hear her heart beating rapidly when she asked in a strained voice, “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be right here all night, so don’t worry.”

  He hesitated by the door until she sank back into the pillow. When he turned, she said quickly, “Scythe?”

  “What?”

  “I’m not worried because you’ll take care of me, just like before.”

  “Humph.” As much as he wanted to correct her, he didn’t want her pestering him anymore, so he left the rest for morning. He took up his post outside the door.

  Her voice reached out to him in the darkness of the sparsely lit courtyard.

  “Scythe.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I know you can hear me
. I remember how well you hear things. I remember everything about you.” She didn’t wait for his response this time, “I love you. Mom and dad, too, and Auntie Lena. We all miss you a lot.”

  She didn’t speak again, and he assumed that she had finally succumbed to exhaustion, so it surprised him when he heard her voice after several minutes. Dripping with slumber, each word was faint and drawn out: “Why did you leave?”

  He poked his head back inside the room after a moment to see that she was fully asleep. With a quick stretch, he settled himself in for a long night, first clearing away the bothersome thoughts of the last few minutes and then embracing the quiet.

  -----------

  Reave shook his head, an almost perfect imitation of Scythe’s disbelief from the day before, “I don’t believe they brought you out here for that.” He looked over at Scythe, who was standing in the doorway. “She doesn’t know a thing.”

  Scythe shrugged.

  “Well, why don’t you tell me about your dream again?”

  She closed her eyes for several seconds, gathering her thoughts. When she opened them, they were slightly unfocused and her face had grown even paler with the memory. “I saw explosions, big ones, and lots of people...lots of people, all Kin, running, some of them hurt. But not soldiers, just regular people. It was terrible.”

  “Where is it? Is it Sonora?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never been there. There are all these gray buildings and what look like houses, big houses.”