She was jarred awake when her bunk shook. “Dad?” she said, turning over.
“Sorry,” said a friendly voice at the foot of her bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just have to get to my trunk here.” The border patrol soldier pulled out a pair of reading glasses and two books. “Now, which one?” He examined them, flipping through each one casually.
Although he had always been very polite, Mercy had been cautious of him since the first night he had arrived with her father and the rest of the border patrol. Scythe had pointed him out and had given them a clear warning to watch out for him. Of course, she and her father could sense power from strongly gifted people, but it was harder if it was weaker, like this man’s; she would have been aware of it, but not known exactly where it originated from. Scythe was lucky in that his sharp senses could pick up any little bit and he could tell exactly who the power belonged to. Since Scythe didn’t feel comfortable with this man, Mercy knew she had to be guarded around him.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what his power was. Human powers were unusual. Mercy personally only knew a handful of people who had them, outside of her family. She might have gotten a feel for his gift by sending out a thin little ribbon of her power to connect with his. He was so weak, it was possible that he wouldn’t have felt anything; on the other hand, it was impossible to know without testing if he was the sensitive type. Remembering her father’s and Scythe’s strict warnings about using her power, she made sure that hers was pulled in tightly.
She glanced around. She wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep, but it couldn’t have been long, since it was early enough in the evening that no one else had retired for the night. They were the only ones in the room. The voices of Kin and Humans could be heard from the courtyard just outside, but still, Mercy felt awkward being alone with him. She turned back to the wall and pretended to go back to sleep.
“Aw, well, looks like a mystery tonight,” the man said cheerfully. She heard the trunk close, felt him bump her bed again, and then she heard the creaking as he settled on his own bed. “Mind if I turn on this light?”
“No.”
“Thanks. Let me know if it bothers you, okay?”
“I’m fine.”
After a few minutes of listening to the soft turning of pages, she began to drift off again. Weariness wrapped itself around her and carried her back to her dream.
She sat with her brother Will on the rug in their home, playing a video game. The five year old was building with a block set that had become huge after numerous birthdays and holidays.
Scythe came in with an apron on, “Who wants lunch?”
“When did you get here?” she asked.
Scythe became her dad, who said, “Come on, enough of those games. It’s time to eat.” He picked up Will and carried him to the kitchen.
For some reason, it was very important to her to win the game, so instead of obeying like she would have in real life, Mercy kept playing her game. The fire from the fireplace beside her was warm, and she felt cold, so she moved closer to it. The heat soaked into her leg, arm and face.
“Aw!” she moaned when her character died again to the sound of a perky little jingle. She started over.
A flame from the fireplace curled around the grate and rubbed up against her. Her own power eased through her skin and pushed it gently away. Two more sparks joined the first, playfully swirling in the air and then diving down…
Mercy sat up in bed.
Something...
“Anything wrong?” asked that amiable voice. The man looked over from his bed, book in his hand, and his eyebrows raised above his glasses.
“Um, no. Just a dream.” Something had touched her, and he was the only one there. She sat up and began to put on her shoes.
“You going out?” His voice was so casual when he said it, as if they were friends; but, they weren’t.
Bent over her laces, she narrowed her eyes at him silently and watched as the curiosity bled away to be replaced with wolf eyes in a blank face. She didn’t like those eyes at all.
“What’s with the look?” he asked, sitting up. His voice was playful, but it didn’t match his body, which rose and moved toward her.
No one had approached her like that in a long time, not since she was much smaller. They had come in the night, taken her from her room, from her bed...
“You better. Stay away. From me.” She knew she should do something, but she couldn’t remember what it was you did, when you were in danger. Her mind was frozen and her body was trapped in it.
“You should have just slept. It would have been a lot easier for us both.”
Now she could feel it, his power. He stood only a foot away, looking harmless, even attentive, as if he were going to help her stand up. Then, his power started to press up against her, and it wasn’t weak. It had started weak, but it grew. She realized with a start that one of his abilities was to hide his strength.
He smiled kindly at her and whispered, “Ah, that’s better. Those pretty, brown eyes look much nicer when they aren’t all viper-y.” He began to apply more pressure and out of pure instinct her power pushed back, holding him away.
Mercy grit her teeth, “Stop it.”
He ignored her and pushed a little harder, but his energy didn’t advance one inch. “That’s what I thought. Unfortunately, I need to know how much you can take, so just…” His eyes widened as he and Mercy both felt the approach of someone who wasn’t hiding his power, and right behind him came another.
“Shit.” He drew in a deep breath and, with a look of determination, crashed against her with all of his energy.
With her father and Scythe coming, she threw off her fear and gathered her power. She wanted to use it, to wrap it around him and squeeze, to shoot it through his head until he was mindless. She wanted to punish him for scaring her, for assaulting her, but, as angry and hurt as she was, she wasn’t determined enough to use her power that way. Her instinct was to protect herself, so she did. A shield bloomed around her: large petals of energy overlapped each other and surrounded her in a secure cocoon. She held him easily for about five seconds, before the force that had swollen behind her burst into the room and swept the man’s power away.
She had her eyes on him, but even so she barely saw him move from right in front of her to across the room and up against the wall. The black thing that had carried him there held him pinned with one hand on the neck and the other just below the ribs. Mercy blinked. Scythe.
He filled the room with an intoxicating rush of power that pulsed against her shield. She couldn’t see it, but she could sense it deep in the core of her body. It was powerful.
Mercy! Her father surrounded her with his arms and his own strong power. Reflexively, she reached out to him as well, wrapping his arms with her own bands of energy. Her shield folded into itself and returned to her.
Dad! He is so strong!
Yes, he is. Show me what that man did to you.
I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me. Mercy started to make an image for her father when a voice spoke sharply from the doorway.
“Scythe. That man is Eler.” Temper said. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.
Scythe actually squeezed harder on the man’s neck. Dazed from the blow to the head, the man’s eyes rolled and he started to gag. He clawed reflexively on the hand that choked him.
“At the very least, let him report,” she said.
“I don’t have to assist your investigation, Temper.”
That low, hard voice she remembered from when he had used it on Captain Reave, and it gave her the chills. Even though Mercy couldn’t see his face, she could guess what it looked like. Fear started to build inside her, but it was wavy and uncertain because she wasn’t sure exactly who she was afraid of or who she was afraid for. She just knew that that voice made her afraid.
“No, but neither may you interfere. Killing him before he reports constitutes obstruction. You know this.” When he
didn’t respond, she said, as if offering a compromise, “Killing him after does not.”
Ian, having seen the image Mercy was finally able to put together, said, “Let him report, Scythe, it's okay. And, we would like it if you didn’t kill him, either.”
Father, what is happening? Mercy had never heard people talk so casually about killing, and it terrified her. Were the Kin so merciless? She sent a tendril out toward Scythe, but pulled it back immediately after touching the power that surrounded him. It was fused with a red, hot anger. She had never seen him like this; this Scythe didn’t exist in her world, but there he was.
Mercy jumped when the stifling power around her contracted just before Scythe seethed, “Show me what you did.”
The man’s grip on Scythe’s hands loosened and his face went slack. After a few moments, his hands and arms started to shake and he let out a small whine.
“You…” Scythe leaned forward slightly, “You bastard.” One hand flew from the man’s neck, darted down in an arc and returned impossibly fast; a small blade nestled between two knuckles, barely piercing the skin at the side of the man’s neck.
He shook his head as much as he could, his eyes still riveted to Scythe’s face.
After a moment, the man spoke about something only the two of them could see, “I know, I’m sorry.”
Scythe whispered harshly, “You weren’t sorry when you did it.”
“I had to,” he breathed. “They…”
“Don’t...don’t...I don’t want to know,” Scythe said, sucking in his power until it just hummed around him. He squeezed his lips together before he pulled the blade away from the thin red line it had made in the skin; he eased up on the man until he slid down the wall enough to stand on his own wobbly legs. “Give your fucking report.”
The border patrol soldier looked at Temper, who nodded, “You may give it to me now, Adan.”
“He’s just going to kill me after,” he croaked, his hand touching his neck and coming away with a small crimson stain which he couldn’t take his eyes off.
Scythe grinned.
“Perhaps, but is it your own life you are safeguarding with your report? Or another’s?”
He nodded and let his unsteady legs collapse until he was in a crouch with his back against wall. “Okay. Okay.”
Ian said with disgust, “Are they still recruiting like that?”
Temper shrugged without looking away from Adan.
Scythe stood like a rock next to the man, his face hard and angry. “Give her what she wants, Adan.”
Adan flinched and then reported hesitantly to Temper, “She is strong, stronger than me, but she couldn’t sense my power unless I was close. She can shield herself. That’s it. I haven’t seen anything else.”
“Visions?” Temper asked.
“I haven’t seen anything else, I tell you.”
“How can you just allow this?” Ian asked furiously. “My daughter was assaulted.”
“Your daughter has no rights. You have no rights. As Humans with powers, you constitute a threat to the Kin, and whatever freedoms you experience are at the whim of the Kin.” Temper recited.
The words hung in the air alone, until Scythe added his to them, reacting to the news faster than Ian, “Since when?”
“Since the resolution passed three months ago by the Scere. It awaits only a royal endorsement.”
“Why didn’t I hear about it?”
“The Scere isn’t responsible to you, Scythe,” she reprimanded, but then added with a sigh, “There was a closed session. Until the King affixes the royal seal, there will be no word.”
“How long will that take?” asked Ian.
“It is the King’s prerogative to delay or make haste,” she informed him and then added with a hint of regret, “but I should guess before the year is out.”
Mercy saw Scythe turn slowly from the Watcher to Ian and then to herself. Her heart began to beat faster, piercing her with each beat, as she watched the Temper’s announcement sink in and steal some of his strength. When the smooth mask fell over his face, she reached out to her father. Dad! Dad, what do we do?
Ian, who had seen it too, tried to calm her. I don’t know, but we’ll find a way to help him and ourselves. Be strong, Mercy.
“So, it is not legal yet, correct?” Ian asked.
“That is true.”
“Tell me, please, Temper, what do you plan to do with my daughter?”
“I? I have no plans for your daughter. I am a tool of the Scere, as is Scythe. My duty is to report her abilities. Then the Scere will determine whether or not it will act on that report.”
“Then why was Adan here?”
“He has abilities that I do not. His information will assist me in making my report. However, I did not authorize today’s incident. To my knowledge, he was to observe only, and then report to me.”
Adan shook his head and then flinched in pain. His hand lifted off the large red splotches that surrounded his neck to gently press on the tender back of his head. “No. I was told to test her. Tonight was the only time I could; she was never alone before.”
“Who told you to test her?”
“The same one who is babysitting my wife right now.”
“So, as long as you gave your report, you wife is good, right?” Scythe asked, laying his hand on the top of the man’s head and closing his fingers around a thick hunk of Adan’s hair.
“Y...yes, I think,” he stuttered, pulling up his second hand defensively.
Scythe crouched down, pulling the man’s head back and looking him in the eye. “You didn’t have to do it that way, Adan.” He leaned closer, whispering in his ear, “I saw what you did when she slept. I know how much you liked scaring her.”
“I didn’t hurt her. I didn’t do a thing,” Adan protested, his voice rising.
“Ian, you should take Mercy out,” Scythe said. He wiped the small blade on Adan’s shirt and smoothly slid it into a pocket, his hand moving toward one of the larger knives sheathed on his thigh.
“You take her out,” Ian responded firmly, standing up.
Surprised, Scythe looked up. “What?”
“I said, ‘You should take her out.’” Ian walked forward until he was right in front of a frowning Scythe.
Mercy looked up when Temper shifted her feet, but made no move to interfere. The woman watched Ian curiously, a pleased gleam in her eye.
“What are you doing?” Scythe asked.
Ian crouched down next to the two men, “Yes, he’s an asshole and probably a pervert. Yes, he scared and hurt my daughter. Yes, I hate his stinking guts, but not enough to let you kill him, or even beat him up any more. I am satisfied with what has already happened, so you will have to be, too. And,” he added, his brows furrowing, “somewhere there is a woman waiting for her husband. We are not going to be the ones to send her a body.”
They all waited to see what Scythe would do. Mercy, who was still connected to her dad, saw how important Scythe’s decision was to him, how much he wanted believe in his old friend. In those quick seconds, the fog lifted over Mercy’s fears and they sharpened: she knew exactly who she was afraid for.
She jumped in her skin when his voice sliced through the silence.
“Ian,” he said, releasing Adan and standing up, “you are a real pain.”
Ian stood next to him and said, “Remember who you are.” He held Scythe’s eyes until he nodded.
Then they both looked over at Temper, who said, “That was...very interesting.” She looked down at the man on the floor who had begun to collapse in on himself in relief, “I think that, in deference to the nice Human’s efforts to preserve your life, you should come with me for a bit, Adan.” She opened the door and held it while Adan forced his legs to move. Outside, several people had gathered, but quickly dispersed after a few precise words from the woman.
When the door closed shut and she realized that it was finally over, Mercy felt a rush of emotion rise up around her body as if th
e room were filling with water and it was already up to her knees. She started breathing faster and her hands began to shake, and trying to stop it by curling her hands into fists and stuffing them under her arms only made it worse. The water was up to her waist and she needed...to not be sitting there alone on the bed. She needed to be held tightly. She wanted strong arms to wrap around her and make her feel safe.
Mercy stood up because little waves were lapping against the bottom of her chin and walked over to the two men. For some reason, her father’s sad expression made the water press harder against her and begin to swirl; it was going to pull her down into its depths. Suddenly unsteady, she instinctively reached out with her arms for balance.
When Scythe smoothly moved away from her hand and readied himself to slide past her on his way out, she stopped so that she was in his way. She closed her eyes, tilted her face down and away from him, and pleaded, “Don’t...please, don’t go. I promise I won’t bother you, or anything.” Don’t go.
Her father stepped forward and she leaned her forehead into his shoulder and accepted his warm hug.
When Scythe hesitated, she reached out without looking and laid her hand on his arm, wishing it wouldn’t tremble so much. “Thank you, Uncle Scythe. I really needed you.”
“Hey, I came, too,” Ian said softly. “I was supervising.”
Mercy nodded and concentrated on controlling herself, but it was hard because she was holding her breath now.
Halfblood Journey Page 18
