“Buc is right. I didn’t want him to be, but he is.”
“About what?”
“About you. I can’t keep you safe anymore, Kendry. We’re leaving for the Conclave.”
The world slides around me again. “But… Axel, what about Mom?”
He shakes his head. “We have no idea where they’ve taken her. And we don’t have the resources to find out.”
My mouth is drier than the Mojave. I can’t leave Mom. I can’t. Except I know I don’t have a choice, because she’s long gone. If she’s even still alive.
His hand drifts up my arm to my shoulder, and holds me gently. “They can help. More importantly, they can keep you safe.”
But what if I don’t care about being safe?
*
I don’t even know where we’re going. We left in an amazing hurry, our original group. Most of the humans had already gone, or had elected to stay behind and keep an eye on the plant. Enough things blew up that I’m pretty sure nobody’s going to be using it again, but you never know. In less than an hour, we were up and gone. Heading back into the mountains, and who knows where from there.
Axel stays away. Scouting, I guess, like Caleb, who’s joined Thom, while Shelly walks with me. But we all walk in silence, and I’m glad. My head is too full of confusion and questions to talk. At least Shelly saved my daypack. Clean clothes always make the day better.
We head deeper into the mountains that border Virginia and West Virginia, deep hill country. These aren’t like western mountains, all rock and snow. The Appalachians are mountains you can get lost in without trying. Trees thick enough that it’s barely daylight underneath. More green than you’ve ever seen. They’re mountains that hid entire armies, from the French and Indian War to the War Between the States. They’re the mountains that were house and home to the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s generations-long feud. They hid bootleggers and poachers, with trees and underbrush so thick the only hope you have of finding them is to burn them out. There are homesteads here that even satellites couldn’t find.
These are mountains that can hide anything, or anyone. And we marched straight into the heart of them.
My feet carry me along numbly. I’m so caught up in trying to come to terms with how drastically my life has changed, and how much it is still likely to change, that I forget Shelly is even there until she bumps me with her shoulder. I must give her this super dazed look, because she laughs.
I feel the corners of my mouth turn up a little.
“Careful there, Kendry. Wouldn’t want to smile.”
I can’t help it. I smile even though I don’t want to. But that’s Shelly. Her arm finds its way across my shoulders as my smile falters.
“You know, my dad used to always say that the best things in life always come with the greatest cost. He was usually talking about family.”
I sniff and look away. “I can’t believe my dad has been alive this whole time. I mean, I should be thrilled, over-the-moon excited. But I can’t get past the fact that he lied, that he left me. That they both lied. Even to protect me, I can’t understand why he wouldn’t trust me with the truth. I thought he loved me enough.” The words tumble out of me like a rockslide, and hurt just as much.
Shelly gives me a sad look. “I’m sorry, Kendry. But if your dad is with the Paranormal Conclave, maybe he had good reason to lie.”
I freeze in place, my mind spinning around this new point that I hadn’t processed yet.
Dad was at the Paranormal Conclave. I didn’t know anything about it, or what it was, but it sounded important. And it was paras.
What was my human father doing there?
Was he part of the resistance?
Did I really even know him?
“Kendry, we need to keep moving.”
I felt Shelly’s hands encouraging me along, but even though my feet move, my brain is still frozen in that patch of sunlight we’re quickly leaving behind.
“Kendry?”
I look up at Shelly slowly. “I don’t…” The words all come tumbling out. Forget rockslide. This is a full on avalanche. “What if my dad is a para? What if he’s not my dad? What if everything I thought I knew is wrong? He left, Shelly! He let me think he was dead. What kind of father does that? And he’s been with the paras this whole time? And then he sends a freaking gargoyle to keep an eye on me? Who else has he had spying on me?”
I can’t even begin to stop the flow of words. It all keeps coming. “And Mom. Mom could be dead.”
“She might not be.”
I stare at Shelly. “If she isn’t, she’s stuck with that asshole Cigar-face and his men, and I don’t want to think what they might be doing with her. To her.” I take a deep breath. “I killed people, Shelly! Trying and failing to get her out. Humans. Lives that were not mine to take. It’s one thing to hunt a deer and kill it, and eat the meat. But a human life, even one that would’ve taken my own…” I stumble. “Oh God, I feel sick.”
Shelly holds me as I stumble, falling to the ground. It’s too much, all of it. Everything I’ve been holding back comes rushing out in a tidal wave of emotion, and I can’t stay upright, I can’t keep going. I don’t even try to hold back the tears.
And then there are arms lifting me up, but it’s even worse, because they’re not the right arms.
They’re not Axel’s.
*
Night falls, and we make camp. Shelly stayed with me all day, while Buc carried me, and after, when I insisted he put me down. I was grateful, but I’m still embarrassed, and a part of me still wishes it had been Axel to lift me up. But now we’ve stopped, I push Shelly away. I know she needs time with Caleb.
I envy her time with Caleb.
I feel like I’m losing Axel. Or that I never really had him to begin with. He’s been my only friend, and I thought he might be more. I want him to be more, and there have been moments where I thought that was possible. But he was sent to watch me by a father who abandoned me, which raises questions I’m not sure I want answers to.
Like, did he ever feel anything for me at all?
Was he ever even my friend?
I shouldn’t think that, and I don’t want to. Axel’s been there for me since the day he dropped into my clearing. Even if he was only doing a job, I owe him better than that.
But I can’t help it.
I can’t help feeling like my life has been one big setup.
I cry myself to sleep, curled up in a ball, surrounded, but feeling totally alone.
*
Day two finds us plunging deeper into the heavily forested mountains, and finds me down-right cranky from a night of crying. The revelations of the previous days have spun their way from shock and sorrow to downright bitchiness. I want to know where we’re going, what’s happening, and all anyone will say is “To the Conclave.”
That’s not exactly helpful.
“What the hell is the Conclave, anyway?” I almost shout, after about the fifth time.
Brigid sighs. “They’re the heads of all the para families and species. Think of them as our version of Congress, but functional. They are kings and queens and leaders, all of whom made the Uprising possible.”
“Oh,” I squeak.
She looks back at me, this woman who was once worshipped as a goddess, and was once my teacher. “Yes, oh.”
“So…why are we going there?”
Brigid turns forward again, and I can’t see her face to read it. “Partly because they need to know about this new ammunition the humans are developing. It makes me think they’re going after the Conclave, if they’ve come up with something that can hurt the gargoyles.”
“What do you mean?”
She looks at me again, her face unreadable. “Because the gargoyles’ primary guardianship is the Conclave.”
“Oh. That’s not good.”
“No.”
We continue in silence, while I turn that over in my head. It’s not good at all. If the human armies can take out the para leaders,
they’ll lose everything. And the humans that fight with the paras will be treated as enemies.
It’s a few minutes before I realize she’s only half answered my question. “You said partly. What’s the other reason?”
Brigid takes her time responding. “You know, if you had been this inquisitive back when I was your teacher, you might actually have passed English with better than a C.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t see Steinbeck or Hemmingway saving my life.”
That earned me the death-glare I remembered. In eighth grade, that had meant shut up before you get detention. Now, I’m pretty sure it means something closer to if you keep asking I might kill you.
Discretion being the better part of valor and all, I decide to let it go. Better to drop back and talk to Shelly. I feel like I owe her an apology.
“Hey,” she says with a smile as I fall into step with her.
“Hey.” My smile is only a ghost of one, but it’s the best I’ve been able to do lately. “I, um. I wanted to say thanks. And I’m sorry.”
Shelly tilts her head at me. “What for?”
I sigh. I’m not good at this. “Thanks for everything, really. For sticking with us, and for helping me. For hanging onto my pack. For standing with me to rescue people you hardly knew. And for putting up with my meltdown yesterday. Sorry that I inflicted that on you.” I look away, trying not to cry again. Damn tears. “And thank you for being there. You’re the first friend I’ve found since Axel showed up. I’d forgotten how nice it was.”
She throws her arm around my shoulders and grins. I don’t think the girl knows how to stay gloomy. “You’ve had a lot going on, with your mom and your dad, and all that. I’m sorry we couldn’t rescue your mom. I’m sure she’s okay. And I’m glad you’re okay. Getting shot’s not fun.”
I rub my arm and laugh. “You say that like you know from personal experience.”
The look she gives me is half smile, half secret. “I didn’t always live in Arlington.” She winks, and we both laugh. Having a friend makes everything better.
“So. You and Caleb seem to be really getting in deep.” Even in my crazed state, I’d noticed that the only time they spent apart was when he was scouting with Thom.
A silly grin and a blush flash over her face. “He’s sweet.”
I laugh as she ducks her head, and then glances around. She’s always looking for him. “Oh, come on. You’ve gotta give me more than that! Details!” I haven’t had a friend to be girly with for so long, I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like.
She sighs, still looking for him. “If this whole insane experience has taught me anything, it’s that we can’t waste time. You know?” She looks at me, and I can see the seriousness in her eyes.
I nod. “Yeah. You’re right.”
Shelly looks away. “I mean, either one of us could die tomorrow. We’re in a war that might never end. I don’t want to look back and wish I’d had more time.”
I know what she means. I wish I’d had more time. More time with Dad, with Mom.
We walk along in silence for a bit. Her eyes drift through the woods around us, looking for Caleb again. My mind drifts to other memories, like a sunlit clearing and a stone gargoyle.
“So…” Shelly nudges me. “What about you and Axel? What’s the deal with you two?”
My smile fades into sadness. I can’t even begin to know how to answer that question. “I don’t really know.”
“Really?” There’s genuine confusion on her face. “Because I’d swear he likes you. And you can’t tell me you don’t like him.”
I shrug. Wish it were true. “I don’t know. I mean, I do, and I thought he… It doesn’t matter. He’s my guardian. He’s doing his job. Keeping me safe.”
The look she gives me is one of those that says, Honey, you are so full of shit that your green eyes are turning brown. Or rather, You’re delusional if you think he’s just doing a job. Either way, it’s clear she thinks there’s more going on than there is, and there’s a lot of pity mixed in there too.
I only wish she was right.
Four days. Four days of snarled, tangled underbrush. Four days of tall, thick trees, and rocky footing, and aching feet. In four days, I once hiked across the narrow end of Maryland, along the Appalachian Trail from Harpers Ferry, West Virginia to Pen Mar, Maryland, at the Pennsylvania border. It was a long hike, about fifty miles in the end. But we took our time, took it easy.
This isn’t taking it easy. Axel has us going from sunrise to sunset, in the humid heat of an Indian summer, stopping only when it gets too dark to see. It finally rains on the third day, and I’m overjoyed. At least, at first. Soaking wet isn’t a fun way to hike.
But by the fourth day, I am absolutely sure I have no idea where we are. Lost in a sea of unending green, somewhere in the heart of the Mid-Atlantic. We could be in Virginia, could be in West Virginia, all I know is I’ve never felt so far from civilization. Almost as if we’ve slipped off the map and into another world, where the United States of America never existed.
It’s both beautiful and frightening.
Even more amazing is what we find hidden in those mountains. It rises up, a great grey stone beast that looks as though it has always been there, like it was created at the same time as the mountains surrounding it. Castles don’t belong in America, they belong to Europe and Britain and Russia. But this one does. This one fits. Parapets and ramparts, cornices and battlements—not that I know what any of those things actually are. There’re even a few towers. I’m only mildly disappointed at the lack of a moat, but there’s a creek, so I’ll let it go. But it’s massive and amazing and looks like it appeared straight out of Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty.
Looking at it, I feel even more like I’ve been transported out of my world and into another one.
I’m so transfixed by this ancient castle in the middle of my mountains that I don’t notice Axel landing behind me. I should, since I haven’t spoken to him in days. Not since that morning by the pond. But I don’t notice. Not until he speaks, his voice rumbling behind me.
“Welcome to the Conclave.”
“Are those gargoyles?” I ask, pointing up. Something sure is flying around up there, above the ramparts.
He nods. “And gryphons. The guardianship of the Conclave is a serious thing.”
There’s something in his voice I can’t quite place, and my next question is almost a whisper. “Do you miss it?”
He shrugs. His answer is as soft as mine. “Not as much as I thought.”
And then he brushes past me, his wings sliding along my arm, and I have to run to keep up.
*
“Axelrod.”
The gargoyle that greets us has nothing of Axel’s modern charm. He’s a traditionalist, by the looks of him—no jeans and t-shirt here. Instead he wears a frown, and a black uniform with silver buttons that looks like it came out of eighteenth-century Europe. Long, black hair tied back at his neck, tall boots to his knees. All black like his eyes, against pale, granite skin. Lacking any warmth.
“Grittanus.” There’s no warmth in Axel’s greeting, either. It comes out as a growl, hard as stone. Clearly no love lost between these two.
“I’m surprised to see you back here.”
“Save it, Grittanus. We need to see the Conclave.”
Grittanus chuckles, and I immediately don’t like him. He’s patronizing, and his smile says he’s cruel. “You know that’s not how it works, Axelrod.”
“I don’t care how you think it works. The Conclave needs to hear what I have to say, and last I checked, they didn’t answer to you.”
He stares at our group, clearly not impressed. “Is that your charge, Axelrod?”
Axel glares back, and doesn’t answer.
“Hmm. He won’t be pleased. And Brigid. How good of you to return. Did you decide to rejoin the Tuatha Dé? Danu will be interested to hear about your return. For that matter, Dagda and The Morrigan will love to know you’re back.”
&nb
sp; “Tell whoever you like, Grittanus,” Brigid pushes back. “It doesn’t change the fact that I have every right to address the Conclave, and you know it.”
Grittanus sneers, apparently outplayed for the moment. Something tells me he doesn’t give up that easily. “Very well. I will inform them. In the mean time, there are rooms in the visitor wing that I’m sure you can settle in. It may be a long wait.”
“Better not be too long,” Axel says as we walk away. Grittanus’ eyes follow me as we go, and I shiver. He gives me the creeps.
*
Axel knows his way around, and has us settled in no time. The visitor wing seems pretty well empty, so we each get our own room. Of course, the place is absolutely enormous, so I can’t imagine that we wouldn’t get our own. Except for Axel, because I think he already has one. Or maybe he doesn’t need one. I know the kelpie who saved us said gargoyles don’t need to sleep, but doesn’t everyone need a place to call their own? Either way, I get the feeling we’re being sent to cool our heels, and none of us like it.
At least Shelly and Caleb can spend some time together.
My room is smallish, with heavy carpets over a stone floor, and a fireplace that’s still big enough I think I might be able to climb in it. The window is long, with a balcony, which I have to say is the coolest thing ever. Balconies in castles rock. Outside, gryphons and gargoyles fly patterns in the air. Surveillance is my guess. Doesn’t seem like these guys mess around much. Can’t imagine they have reason to.
Someone taps on my door, and I turn in time to see Axel open it. He comes in part way, leaning in the doorway. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
He seems different. Nervous. Less confident. “Kendry… I have to talk to the Conclave. Alone. I don’t know how long I’ll be. It might be best if, ah…”
“If what?” I don’t understand this new hesitancy. Cocky, confident, sure, that’s what Axel is like. Not this.
He sighs. “If you don’t wander too much. At least, not without company, like Brigid or Buc. Or at least Thom.”
ParaWars Uprising Page 8
