Halfblood Journey

by Rheaume, Laura

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  This was exactly the type of thing he had run from before. If he had been too old to be running away from his responsibilities then, he was definitely too old for it five years later.

  But, it...it really hurt. It hurt him to see the welts on her wrist and...her face… It hurt him to hear, heavy with relief, the word “safe,” over and over in his head.

  When he was sure that she was fast asleep, he scooted his body over so she could fit all the way on the bed. Unaccountably, she immediately moved over until she was right up against him again with her arm flung over his shirt, leaving a portion of the very small mattress unused behind her. He eyed it over her head.

  He wasn’t sure what he thought he was going to do when he shifted again, probably something sensible like getting up and giving her the whole bed. What he ended up doing was turning and wrapping his arm around her and hugging her tightly to himself. He pressed his face into her hair and the moment that the intoxicating smell of her...sweat, dirt and all...had filled his head a few times, his heart broke apart.

  It had been a long time since he had cried.

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  When the lock clicked and the door opened, he was sitting again on the floor, quiet but not empty. He focused on the guard and the woman who stood behind him.

  “The duration of your visit has excee…” she said, stopping when she noticed Mercy sleeping soundly on the bed. “Ah, well, I’m afraid she’ll have to go.”

  “Is there someone with her?” he asked.

  “No. She walked in off the street.”

  Why wasn’t he surprised?

  “Please contact Temper, one of my counselors. She will come and get her.”

  “I can do that. To be honest, I wouldn’t have felt comfortable letting her go off on her own.” She stepped in and approached the bed.

  “She can wait here until then,” Scythe said, lowering the pitch of his voice only a tiny bit.

  The woman stopped and looked at him uncomfortably, “That is against policy. Your visits have very strict time constraints.”

  “She will not be leaving here without me, her father, or Temper,” Scythe said soberly. He hadn’t moved, but something motivated her to retreat to the door.

  “I will make the call, but she may need to relocate to the waiting area until someone arrives.” She slipped behind the guard who closed and locked the door again.

  “The problem with you is that you are too harsh,” Mercy said, smiling drowsily at him.

  “The problem with you is that you are too soft,” he replied. So soft.

  She nodded, agreeing. “I have a plan for that.”

  “Really? What is it?” This should be good.

  “Stop,” she said simply, stretching her arms above her head and extending her feet out, toes pointed.

  “That...is a very concise plan,” he grinned.

  She nodded again, rubbing first one eye and then the other, her hand jerking back when it touched one of the sensitive bruises that covered her face. She yawned, making a loud, unabashed sound that ended in a contented smacking of the lips. “I’m hungry. When is lunch?”

  He shook his head, got up and sat on the corner of the bed, “Temper and hopefully your dad should be here soon.” He added, adjusting the blanket around her, “Mercy, I’m really sorry...about what happened to you.”

  “Please, don’t be...hold on...let me remember...It makes it worse...it makes it worse when you feel like it’s your fault and it’s not.” She smiled at him.

  He knew that making jokes was the way that she dealt with the difficult things, but he hadn’t been raised by her family. He found it very hard to just laugh it off, especially when he was looking at the evidence all over her.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “No,” she snapped, all humor gone in an instant. Then, immediately sorry at the way she had reacted, she explained, “I…don’t want to right now.”

  “Can you at least tell me what happened after you chased off Cord?”

  “Well, I couldn’t find him, so I left. I didn’t really want to be around there any longer than necessary, in case someone came looking for me, but I didn’t really know where to go. I tried to find Heron’s family...I even asked a few people...but no one knew where that was. Everyone knew where this police station was, though, which was great because that’s where I wanted to go anyway.”

  “But that was yesterday.”

  “Well, it took me a while to get here. It wasn’t exactly across the street.”

  “Where did you spend the night?” He tried not to think of the dangerous situations she could have found herself in.

  “I just went under this bush that was kind of out of the way. Don’t look at me like that. By then, I was so tired that I didn’t even care. I fell right asleep. Then, when the sun woke me, I got up and kept on going.”

  “Mercy,” he moaned.

  “Don’t frown at me like that. I made it, didn’t I? Now, if I tell you to stop worrying about things that have already happened, will you?”

  “No.”

  “You know what the problem with you is?”

  “The harsh thing again?”

  “No...well, yes, that too...but also you think you have to take care of everything. You can’t. It’s impossible, and it’s making you a psycho control freak.”

  “You have become very judgmental all of a sudden.”

  “Will you listen? Sometimes, things just happen, and you can’t do anything about it. So what do we do? Lose it? Or do we just say, ‘Damn, that sucked,’ and move on?”

  “I don’t think I can just ‘move on’ when you disappear for days, get...violated, terribly…” The mention of it made the pain in his chest spasm, and his voice caught on the next words, “...and wander the city alone. That’s not a ‘move on’ moment for me, Mercy.”

  She sighed, and it made him feel better to see the real way she was feeling peek its head out for a second; the happy-go-lucky attitude in the face of what she had been through unnerved him. “Well, then, let’s just say I’m not in the mood to chat about that. Can’t we just concentrate on catching him before he finds another way to get to you?”

  “We don’t have to,” he said. “He joined the Scere this morning.”

  “What! He what? Can he do that?”

  “Yes. He has a dangerous power, and the Scere is always looking for another weapon in their arsenal.”

  “So, what? He is walking around somewhere?” She sat bolt upright, and immediately swayed dizzily.

  He reached out to steady her and, once she was stable, covered her hand to calm her. “No, let me explain. He has offered his services to the Scere, and they...well, the Eler have accepted. What that means is that I can’t touch him, but he can’t touch me either.”

  “What! How?...That is ridiculous! He just gets off free?”

  “Theoretically, yes.”

  “Theoretically? There is no theoretically...wait, what do you mean, theoretically?”

  “In theory, he is under their protection. If I do anything, I’ll be the one in trouble.”

  She waited. He couldn’t believe it. He had paused, anticipating her interruption, but she just sat there calmly waiting. He almost forgot what he was going to say. He shook his head to refresh his memory, “Uh, but...so we have two options. One: we can go after him like we want to and like he deserves, and risk getting caught and disciplined. By disciplined, I mean either punished or eliminated. Two: we can set aside our anger and resentment and leave him be.”

  “Both of those stink, so why do you look so calm about it?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve got this feeling that it will work out okay.” He couldn’t explain it himself, it was just a feeling he had had since Firon had barged into the room after the interview.

  “You have a good feeling?” She looked skeptical.

  “Yes,” he said, shrugging.

  “You never have good feelings about things.”

  “I know.” Of cour
se, he had his suspicions, but that’s all they were at this point; he’d have to wait and see how it would play out to know for sure.

  “You are acting strange,” she accused.

  He shrugged again.

  “Fine.” She tossed her head.

  Scythe turned and watched the door open and the Kin woman from earlier enter with a tray of food. “Temper has arranged directly with the department to have your visit prolonged, in consideration of your guest’s special circumstances. I did not know that there had been a report filed or that there was a search currently in effect for her. I apologize for having overlooked that.” She looked compassionately at Mercy, “You must be hungry…”

  “Yes! Yes, I am!” She sat up, her eyes sparkling. “I thank you, and I honor you, and I would say I’m in debt to you, but only in so far as I could do some favor for you but not so much that I would like to serve your family for the rest of my life or become your brother’s…”

  Scythe took the sandwich from the tray and held it in front of her. She grabbed it and began to eat. “We thank you,” he said.

  “Sorry! I got excited,” Mercy explained between bites.

  The woman was able to not stare by keeping her eyes on Scythe, “I have a friend in Family Services bringing over some clothes. I will return with them as soon as I can. The girl’s father should arrive within the hour.” She handed him the tray and let herself out.

  “Sorry,” Mercy repeated when the door closed. “I know that was a bit much.” She had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. Then the expression passed and was replaced by something more bittersweet. “Awww, it’s almost gone.”

  “There’s soup here,” he said, “and vegetables.”

  “Soup! Yum! Oh, wait, do you want some?” Her hands were already on the bowl, but her offer was genuine.

  “That’s okay. Unlike you, I’ve eaten in the last day. You go ahead.” It did smell good, though. It was a tomato cream soup...one of his favorites...with fresh herbs floating on the top. He hadn’t had anything that well prepared in his entire time there. The woman must have gone out of her way to get a special meal.

  “I ate, but you don’t want to know what,” she said, dipping her spoon in and blowing over the red orange liquid. “Want to taste it?” She held it out for him, cupping her hand underneath. He wondered if she kept her hand there to protect his clothing from a spill, or to keep from wasting even a drop.

  Sharing food was a very Young thing to do, Scythe knew, because it wasn’t something he had witnessed much among either the Human or Kin societies. His impulse was to refuse, because it was almost universally frowned upon, but he did want to taste it, so… “Sure.”

  It was warm and smooth and the added herbs were as delicious as they smelled. It was easily the best he had tasted. He doubted it was made in the same kitchens he was getting food from. The clerk really did feel bad about her oversight.

  “That is really good,” he commented.

  “It’s okay,” she said flippantly, putting down the spoon after a quick taste and taking up the vegetables. “You can have the rest.”

  “You are still such a liar,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

  It was her turn to shrug, take a bite of the green beans and okra, and chew before saying, “This is good, too. Besides, I can tell you liked it a lot. There’s bread. Dip it in.”

  “All right. Thank you.” He knew that it would make her happy if he ate it. She would probably stubbornly hound him until she got her way in either case, so he picked up a piece of the sourdough, dunked it in the soup and then took a bite. He grinned, “Yeah, it’s really delicious.”

  She began to glow. It started in her eyes and then rolled across her face; her lips spread and then parted in one of her...

  He ducked his head down to take the next few bites, because looking at that bright smile was making him feel uneasy, or too easy, one of the two. He was happy to eat in companionable silence for a bit.

  “You’d be proud of me,” she said, finishing up the food on her plate. “I’ve been working a lot lately on the first assignment you gave me. Remember?”

  “Yes.” He took their dishes, offering her the other half of his bread which she took, and set the tray on the floor. “And?”

  “You were right about two things.” She paused and then added when he raised his eyebrows, “Most people are really different from what I thought, different from my family, and I don’t always like what people are thinking. I have learned a lot about that, and I know there is still more to learn. I mean, I’m much more careful now. I pay attention better when I am around people, you know, try to understand them better. I’m going to try to do what you do: watch and really listen, before talking.”

  He nodded. “That’s a good start. My father taught me to do that.”

  “My dad did too, but I guess I didn’t really listen. Anyway, what I didn’t expect was that...well, good people...they can really do some terrible things, and the opposite is true, too. That guy, the one in the warehouse…the young one, remember him? Well, he...he was really nice to me; he was taking care of me, but he was also this terrorist...That type of stuff is really confusing.”

  “It is.”

  “It makes me wonder if there really are any 'good guys', or 'bad guys'…” She looked expectantly at him, but he didn’t have an answer for her, so he just shrugged his shoulders.

  He didn’t think he was the right person to be advising her about things like that. His hands were too bloody, and besides, he was pretty sure she still considered him one of the good guys, despite the fact that she'd been around him long enough now to know better. He didn't want to take advantage of her poor judgment. Let her father, who was a good man, counsel her.

  Accepting that he wasn’t going to say anymore, she shook her head and gave up on the topic. “I’ll ask my dad.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  With another brisk shake of her head, she performed one of her quick mood changes and gave him a confident, piercing look. “You were right about what people think, but I was right, too.”

  The way she changed gears startled him, or maybe it was her stare that made him want to move back a little. “About what?”

  “Well, I think that, at least part of the time, it’s okay for me to believe what I believe. This is going to sound crazy, okay?...but, I don’t have to change just because everyone else thinks one thing and I think something else because, sometimes Scythe, I’m right and everyone else is wrong.”

  “And when is that?” What was this feeling? It was like a nervous twinge...

  “I was right about you.”

  He blinked.

  She pressed confidently, “Wasn’t I?”

  He didn’t know what to say. He breathed slowly, trying for calm, but his heart was pounding in his ears.

  It was true.

  He laid the pieces of the Mercy puzzle in front of him and really looked at them for the first time. Then his other gift, the one he was born with, tried to string them together, but the facts got mixed up with feelings.

  He had embraced the way of peaceful strife, no conflicts or heartbreaks, just hunting, and hurting and fighting and flight. Deaf and dumb, he’d made himself numb, because hearing their sins wore his heart thin and talking invited the outsiders in.

  She’d had a vision, a decision, a mission: to find him, to unbind him, to reach down inside him. The conviction in her eyes, shaking her head at his lies, reaching out to him with her power, long ribbons, strong ties to pull at the boy he had hidden inside, whose mouth he had taped, whose heart he had bound when life he had found gave too much to take.

  All the time he spent trying to save her, to change her, protect and cage her...he was the one saved. He was the one caged.

  He had moved his chair back without noticing it. It had all started with one of her visions. “Did you see...all of this?”

  “No. I told you that. I just saw you. And…” she frowned, remembering, “the you that you
were…” She shook her head, “It was...so painful. I had to come.”

  “Mercy.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You were right about me.”

  She grinned, “I know.”

  He shook his head, matching her grin despite himself.

  “Scythe.” He watched her mirth fade away.

  “Yes?”

  “What is going to happen to you?”

  “I don’t know. It looks like I’m going to jail.” He waited for her to blow up, but she didn’t. He tilted his head and really looked at her. She had changed. He could hear from the bird in her chest that her confidence had abandoned her, but, except for the slight trembling of her hand, she looked like she was focused on the bread she was picking apart. “We have to be ready for that.” He thought it was better for her to know the truth and be prepared. That’s what he was doing.

  She nodded and put a small piece of bread in her mouth.

  He said, “Maybe it will be just a few years.” However, he believed that it would be longer, and, unless his counsel was able to get him solitary, it was likely that he would have an extremely difficult time surviving for even a pair of months. Summer’s testimony was widespread news, and prisoners who had done the types of things that were done to her had reliably short life spans in jail.

  He smelled it before he saw it. Salty.

  Then it was his turn to be sorry.

  Chapter 34

  She looked at her cousin gravely. “I don’t agree with your methods.”

  “I understand, but, apart from the fact that I didn’t solicit your opinion, I will instruct you that such power is not meant to be wielded outside of the influence of The Blood.”