“Well, it is one thing to set up explosives, and another to lay your hands on someone yourself.”
“Especially when it is a young girl,” Scythe agreed. “Most people would be hesitant about that, no matter what other things they were involved in.”
Mercy spoke up, “But he was hurting people. He hurt the captain, didn’t he?”
“Yes, but he probably doesn’t see it that way…” Ian stopped when Scythe raised his hand, listening. A knock on the door sounded a moment later and Scythe opened it for Temper.
-----------
Scythe noticed that, although her face was as relaxed as ever, a small difference in her posture made it clear that Temper was tense. He didn’t miss the hint of something disturbing in her scent, either.
Temper asked, “May I speak with you?”
“Of course,” Scythe said, stepping back and letting her in. “What is the problem?”
“I have been informed that I may be reassigned soon,” she explained, sitting across from Mercy and Ian.
Scythe frowned, “I have never heard of a Watcher leaving an assignment like that.”
“It is highly unusual,” she agreed. “I believe it will not happen for at least a week. Unfortunately, it means that I am now forced to move things along a bit where I would otherwise have preferred to merely observe.” She did not wait for a response, but faced Scythe directly and asked, “Do you know if the girl has the ability to see the future?”
Scythe’s heart, like those of the two Humans in the room, was already beating much faster than normal. He hesitated before answering, “I have not witnessed her see the future.”
“Have you witnessed evidence that suggests that she can predict the future?”
Scythe stayed silent.
After a minute Temper said patiently, “You know that I will be asking them next, and there will be no way that I will not discover the truth. There is no reason for you to endanger your own highly unusual privileges and freedoms by interfering.”
Ian and Mercy both froze, and Scythe glimpsed their movements in the corner of his eye when they connected both their hands and minds. He looked at Mercy, who had finally begun to look afraid. It figures that she would only start to worry when she thinks I am threatened.
Scythe turned back to Temper, but he still didn't answer her because he was stuck. He did have a possible solution, something that he thought would help them get out of the situation they were in, but he didn’t want to use it. It was expensive. He had hoped he could find another way, or at least create a delay, but...
Time had crawled and left him complacent. Now, he saw the trick it had played on him, as it raced to catch up. He could almost see it, rushing past. In a few seconds, it would carry them away with it. He could sit back, let them go, and have his life back. So easy, to just do nothing, and get everything you wanted, everything you had fought for. The alternative...
Temper turned to Ian.
The alternative was to lose everything. Except them.
“Please excuse the abrupt nature of my inquiries…”
Incredibly slowly, his head turned, and he looked at them. At her.
Everything.
Emptything.
“I am aware of how unsettling it must be. Your...”
Scythe stopped calculating the costs. That fearful expression was something he couldn’t sit by and watch. He had seen the same look on a hundred other people, and he hadn’t been moved, but he couldn’t tolerate it in those eyes.
“Temper,” Scythe interrupted. He waited until she faced him, “You know that my parents are dead.”
She blinked, and then her eyes widened as she realized what he was doing. Recovering quickly, she closed the lips that had parted in surprise and nodded, accepting what was going to happen and bearing witness respectfully.
“I, Scythe, son of Scythe and Ramona,…” As he spoke, Scythe felt the wind blowing through him, and it released things inside of him that he didn’t even know were tied up. “...is my right, do pledge myself to the service of the family, as all Kin have done since…” Each word of the oath felt more right than the one before it, and when he reached the end... “Ian, his wife, and their children are my family now. As my body requires the beating of my heart, so do I require the strength of my family to endure the life it provides me. I will stand with my family, until my heart fails.”...it felt like the oath hadn’t come out of him, it had filled him.
For the first time in many years, he used the word ‘okin’ for ‘family.’ For him, okin had been reserved for only his father, mother and himself; his aunt had been okin, too, before she died, but he had never called her that. He had referred to the Youngs as his family before, but had always used the word ‘allekin’ for ‘adopted family’ or ‘renkin,’ meaning ‘friend as close as family.’ Okin was significant because it represented the highest level of bond among his father’s people, and carried with it a strict set of legal, ethical, and social rules. Like Ian’s sister Lena, who became okin to Smoke when she accepted him as her husband, Ian and his family now shared what legal protection Scythe could offer as a Kin.
Within a few breaths, the oath that had filled him began to overflow, spilling everywhere and making a mess.
Her voice sounded distant, “And, naturally, they have accepted you?”
In less than a minute, he had lost his life. He had given away five years of work: every bit of peace he had etched out, every bit of influence and security he had struggled for, everything. At the same time, he had released the last bonds on it, letting it have what it wanted: its freedom. He felt it slowly overtake him.
It was like white hot ice.
Ice was her limp hand in his. Ice was the room with the indifferent, rhythmic beeping. Ice was the look of the doctor when he reviewed her record. Ice was a mother’s empty stare. A man’s empty eyes. A child’s empty home. Empty hands. Empty hearts. Ice was finding empty lives wasted on empty lies.
Numbly, he responded, “Ask them.” Despite being fairly sure of their answer, Scythe still felt a tiny shot of fear course through him as he waited. Fear. That was something the demon wore like a second skin. Fear of loss. Fear of pain. Fear of...
Warmth was an arm around your shoulder. Warmth was the perfect weight of a child in your arms. Warmth was seeing love in a smile. Warmth was the pride in a friend’s eyes. Warm hugs squeezing, warm hand tugging, warm cookies baking, warm fire snapping, hands clapping, the rain rapping, small child napping, warming your chest.
Warmth was the bait.
Temper, kindly not displaying her knowledge of his uncertainty, turned her gaze on Ian and Mercy, both of whom looked shocked and a little confused. She asked them, “Do you accept Scythe as okin?”
Fire was walking through your friend’s empty house. Fire was feeling terror under the skin of someone you loved. Fire was finding yourself helpless in the face of suffering. Fire was bearing witness to the beautiful lies that justified ugly deeds. Fire sparked when your hands were bound, and burned when truth was found and roared when life injected you and infected you with its disease.
Ian looked like he was forming a question, knowing how complicated things were among Kin relationships, and not wanting to expose Scythe to anything that could harm him further. However, when his eyes met Scythe’s, he saw something there that made him change his mind and nod, “We do.”
“Ah, well, this changes things. I will have to make some inquiries before I continue my investigation.” She stood and, surprisingly, embraced Scythe lightly, “Please accept my congratulations on the growth of your family. I have watched you walk alone, as no Kin is meant to do, not even a halfblood. You have chosen well, a good family.” She turned and bowed to Ian and Mercy, “Whatever happens with my assignment, please know that I am proud to have been here when you welcomed a brother to your warm hearth. Fare well.”
Scythe closed the door behind her and leaned his forehead on the wood, drawing a long breath into his lungs. He closed his stinging e
yes and willed himself to be calm. There was no voice, now, vying for his attention. There was no need. He had given it his own voice, along with his body and soul. Given it all to the demon that craved the warmth.
But, there was no warmth without the ice. No warmth without the fire. No warmth without pain.
He didn’t know why, but when Temper had said that he had chosen a good family, it had felt like a spring had broken through his chest; now he was being drowned by what rose up in him. He had done the right thing by protecting them, but she had seen what he had known: it would mean more than legal status to him.
It would mean facing the truth.
He had wanted, but had successfully held the want away for a long time. He had wanted it: a family in his house. But want had hurt, so he had put the want away. Now it was out and was having its way. And behind it, below it, its shadow always, always came.
Half of him purred like a cat. The other half did what it knew best: it feared. So, fear and hope swirled around him, and it was all he could do to just be.
This was what he hated, what he had done without for years. Part of him couldn’t believe he was back here again.
“Scythe?” Mercy asked from behind him.
He took another breath and held up his hand to silently ask for some time, but his hand shook. He closed it and pressed it against the door. Another breath.
Ian came up next to him, carefully leaving enough space between them. He leaned his shoulder against the wall and asked, “Did you just adopt us?”
Scythe took another second and then nodded.
“Took you long enough,” Ian said, trying to make it a joke and failing miserably, his throat closing up before he finished. He must have said something silently to Mercy because she gasped and wrapped her arms around Scythe from behind.
“Okay, Mercy, okay,” her father chuckled, wiping his eyes and nodding to something she was saying. “She thinks it was an okay idea.”
The tight hug and the weight of her head on his back calmed him like nothing else had. He released his fear and accepted what he had done, his shoulders dropping and his hand unclenching. My family. He gave the happiness a chance, letting it spread just a little bit, and then, when nothing terrible happened, he let it spread some more. He smiled. My family.
“Does this mean you have to obey me?” Ian asked, getting back into the rhythm.
Scythe barked a half laugh, “No.”
“I think it does,” Ian laughed and moved in for his own hug, embracing Mercy and Scythe both from the side. Scythe was glad that they, apparently by mutual agreement, didn’t try to speak to him with their power. It would have been too much for him. After a moment, Ian said, stepping back, “All right, Scythe, why don’t you tell us what you just did.”
Distractions were good. Scythe stood away from the wall, turning his head when Mercy didn’t let go. She saw that their attention was on her and stubbornly gripped him tighter, shaking her head. He could smell the salty odor and feel the wetness of her tears on the back of his shirt. Scythe looked over at Ian, whose own eyes were filled with a similarly intense, joyful emotion. He suddenly realized how happy his choice had made them. He wasn’t the only one who wanted them to be a family. He was struck with amazement and, without thinking, wondered aloud, “You really want this?”
Dumbfounded, Ian stared at him for a second, and then said kindly but firmly, “Yes we want you; we have always considered you one of us, from the beginning. We love you.” He shook his head, smiling again, “Scythe, you are the dumbest genius I know.”
“But, why?” Scythe could see the logic behind wanting to be shielded from the Kin, but he couldn’t see one reason why their already ideal family would move over and make a space for him at their table. “I haven’t been around for years, haven’t given you anything, haven’t supported any of you.” To the Kin, a person was expected to stand by his family on a daily basis, to interact, to contribute to the good of all members. Scythe, with his selfish, single-minded behavior, was a true degenerate in the eyes of the Kin.
“You are such an idiot,” Mercy mumbled. “Like we care about that.”
Scythe shook his head and pulled gently at her wrists. This time she let go of him, and he turned around and looked down at her. “That’s what you are supposed to care about…” He made himself say it, for the first time in his life, “han-na.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“It means sister.” Scythe said, the flush starting to spread through his chest again. The Human translation did not come close to conveying the meaning of han-na. The term was closer to a combination of 'beloved sister' and 'she who was held in the other arm.'
“I thought that was ‘yendras,’ ” she looked at her father questioningly, who nodded.
Scythe explained, “Yendras is the general term for any Kin woman, like we say, ‘brother,’ or ‘haros,’ for a man, but it is closer than just ‘man’ or ‘woman.’ That is because the Kin consider themselves to all be related, so everyone is your brother or sister. Han-na is a girl who is actually okin to you.”
“Oh, like I am Will’s hana?”
“Han-na, yes.”
Ian asked, “So, Will is her…?”
“She could call him, ‘Kiryo-ku.’”
“I haven’t heard these terms,” Ian said.
“They are special, only used within the family and by certain members. For instance, you wouldn’t say, han-na except when you were talking to Lena or her daughter, or an aunt.”
“So I couldn’t say, ‘Mercy, go get your kio-ku?’”
“Kiryo-ku.”
“Sorry, you know my memory for these things is terrible. So, I can’t say, ‘Stop harassing your kiryo-ku?’”
Scythe shook his head, “No, he would only be called kiryo-ku by Mercy.”
“Or you.”
“Or me.” Scythe thought, My kiryo-ku.
Mercy hugged Scythe again, her head turned toward her father so she could share in his happiness, “I want you to always call me that.”
“I can, but Mercy is a good name, too.”
“No, it’s weird. No one else has that name.”
“Who wants to have the same name as everyone else? Besides, it suits you,” Scythe said, deliberating. “You are a very forgiving, kind person, han-na.” Slowly, he brought his own arms around her and tried out a gentle hug. He looked at Ian, who was beaming, and then down at Mercy, whose eyes were wide. He froze, until she closed her eyes and pressed her head into his chest.
“I can hear your heart,” she said, “kiro-kun.”
“Kiryo-ku.”
“Kiryo-ku.”
Scythe could only nod. His feet weren't planted like they normally were. Instead, he felt as if he were up on the balls of his feet, unbalanced and vulnerable. He was concentrating on pulling his center down to a more stable position.
Ian plopped down on a chair and said, “Well, I can see there is a lot to learn about who calls who what and whatnot, but for now, why don’t you tell us what being ‘okin’ means for us? Can Mercy go home?”
“I don’t know, but she can’t be taken from us in any case. No one can tear apart the okin. It is one of the strictest laws. The only thing that would interfere with that is if she committed a very serious crime, or if that law governing Humans with powers goes into effect. When that is signed, I don’t really know if any of you will still be safe. Honestly, I don’t know if I will be.”
“Really? I thought you were Kin.”
“I am Kin, but as a halfblood I never know where I stand legally. There are no laws ruling halfbloods, because they can’t exist.” When Scythe moved to join his new brother at the second chair, Mercy followed him and sat on the desk. “Marriage between Kin and Humans is not legal, and so any children aren’t legal either. Right now, halfbloods are just tolerated. We don’t really have any rights, but I live as if I do and I have gotten away with it, for the most part.”
“Because there is nothing that says you don’t
have rights.”
“That’s right.”
“So, as your okin, we don’t really have any rights either.”
“Right, just the fake ones I’ve got,” Scythe smiled ruefully, “Sorry about that, but it is better than any other Human has, except for people like Lena who are married to full Kin.”
“I thought that her marriage isn’t legal, because she is Human.”
“No, it’s not, but her husband will always be Kin and she is okin to him. Okin overrules everything else.”
“Except criminal activity, like being empowered.”
“Yes, I need to get a look at that law. As a halfblood with power, the line I am walking will probably get even thinner.”
“Is there anything else?” Ian asked, “I know that the Kin customs are extremely detailed.”
“Yes, there is a lot, but as long as we get out of this...uh, intact…”
“You can say, ‘alive,’ kiryo-kun,” Mercy said cheerfully, “I don’t mind.”
“‘Ku,’ and I was trying to spare your father. He’s sensitive where your health is concerned.”
“Oh, don’t mind him, kun-kun…”
Ian interjected before Scythe was given a chance to retort, “In case you didn’t notice, I’m sitting right here. You were saying there would be changes?”
“There will be many adjustments, mostly for me, but that can wait. Let’s just worry about finding the terrorists and figure out how to deal with that damn vision where Mercy gets shot...at.”
Halfblood Journey Page 22
