by Ron Francis
"Not really, I heard that I'm supposed to be some child of destiny or something. I have no idea what that means or what the prophecy is, or anything. Is there a reason you people have to torture me with glimpses and half truths while always leaving the important details just beyond my reach? Have I done something to offend the Ethereal race? What's the deal?" He was so frustrated he could scream, but he didn't want to take any of it out on Abby after learning how sensitive Shifters can be, and everything that had happened yesterday. He felt like they were almost to a point of forgiving each other, and he didn't want to risk it. He looked into her piercing jade eyes and thought he could lose himself forever in them.
"Thomas, I'm really sorry about misleading you, and not telling you who I was. If I had it to do differently, I would."
"How about we pretend this week didn't happen and we just start over." He was so attracted to her, and maybe it was the bond, or maybe it was how good she looked, but he no longer wanted to be angry with her.
"That's a great idea. Thank you. I'll even show you some pictures of us when we were little. You really don't remember me? How about Staten Island, PS29, do you remember any of it?
"I kind of remember Staten Island. I almost remember PS29; it's more of an impression than a memory. It was a red brick building, right? Maybe three or four stories?"
She grinned and replied, "Yep, four stories, right on the corner of Victory and Slosson. See, you do remember."
"Almost, but it's really just a vague picture."
"That's all right, it will all come back." Abby was gentle when she placed her hand on his arm and began to rub it back and forth in a rhythmic motion. She looked him in the eye and replied, "And don't worry, we will sit down with Asa as soon as he returns, and you can ask him anything you want." She left her hand on his arm, hoping to have a calming effect.
"That's just it, Abby!" He leapt up, causing her to awkwardly withdraw her arm. "I don't want to ask him anything. If I ask him things he only has to answer what I ask, I want him to tell me everything I need to know! This way, I won't keep getting hit with these bombshells. Every bit of this is new and difficult for me and you guys are prolonging the agony. Every time I come to terms with something, something else pops up and then it's the same process all over again. I don't want to keep going through this, I want it to be done so I can accept it and move on already. This isn't easy for me." He knew this attitude was a bi-product of the artificial cautious nature he had been given. It was the main reason he liked working at the post office, when his route was over, it was over. He didn't need to worry about something important that he'd missed popping up later.
She stood and moved to comfort him. She placed her hand on his chest and looked him in the eye. "All will be revealed when Asa returns, trust me," she replied while her hand remained on his chest. He was so attracted to her and she looked so good. Then there were those eyes. He started to lose himself until he couldn't stand it anymore; he leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips, and she kissed him back. A few minutes later the pain retuned and Thomas' frustration returned with it.
"I can't stand this, Abby, how do we make this pain stop?"
"Once the betrothal ceremony is complete it will stop," she began. "But we need to get you trained before that."
"Why...?" Thomas began but was interrupted by Asa's arrival.
He studied them with a hint of disdain. "Clean yourself up, Abby, we will all speak in the living room in ten minutes." He closed the door behind him. Thomas left next and Abby went to the bathroom for a quick shower.
Ten minutes later they were all assembled in the living room. Thomas sat near the door with his backpack at his feet. He planned to make a break for it if he didn't like what he heard. Thomas looked over at the man called Malachi for the first time. They hadn't even been introduced yet. He noticed the Paladin's size first. Malachi had to be at least six foot seven, and over two hundred fifty pounds. He was powerfully built, and his eyes were an icy blue. His head was shaved as was his face, and he had a tattoo of fire on his neck that looked like it continued under his tight, black shirt. Malachi's face seemed to be formed into a permanent sneer, and Thomas decided he didn't like the man. In fact, Abby was the only Ethereal he had met to this point that he did like.
"So, what is it you would like to know? What would you like to ask me?" Asa began with a weary look on his weathered face.
"That's the problem Asa; I don't know all the things I would like to know. Here's what I would like to ask you. Please tell me anything and everything that has to do with me in this so-called Ethereal world. Everything, all at once, don't leave anything out!"
"That could take a while," Asa replied with an aggravated shake of the head.
"Well, I guess it's a good thing we're cooped up in this house then." Thomas mused with an annoyed look on his face. "I want to know all about my parents, and what this betrothal spell is all about. I want to know what the prophecy is all about. Are my aunt and uncle even my aunt and uncle or are they just players in this game that has become my life? I need to know everything. No more lies." He had never been more serious when he added, "And, Asa, if one more important detail gets conveniently left out I swear I'll go find Devlin myself and ask him. Something tells me he'd be happy to fill me in!"
Before he realized what was happening Malachi had leapt across the room and had him pinned to the wall with a sword at his throat. "If you ever attempt to make contact with Devlin in any way, I will kill you, boy! Do you understand?" His grip was like a vice on Thomas' arm and his sword was mere inches from his throat.
Abby screamed, "Let him go, Malachi! He didn't mean it." Jake and Sam held her back, a look of shock pasted on their faces.
Thomas glared at Asa and yelled, "Well here's another important detail you failed to mention. If I don't do what you want, you'll kill me? Get off of me, Malachi!"
"You don't tell me what to do, boy! Do you understand?" Malachi was enraged and he kept Thomas pinned to the wall. He had never been a believer in the whole child of destiny thing anyway, but he knew this kid wasn't it. "Let's be clear on one thing. From now on, you do exactly as I say, when I say it, no questions asked. I own you! You do that, we'll be fine. If you don't—" He slid his sword across Thomas throat without cutting him, but without easing up on the pressure. Then he smiled as if he were enjoying himself. "Now I want you to say it. Right now, out loud: I will not make contact with Devlin." He looked over to Abby who was still being restrained and winked. Thomas thought Malachi's goal was to humiliate him in front of Abby and everyone else. Asa just sat there and watched it all happening, which made Thomas even angrier.
"Leave him be, Malachi!" Abby yelled again, but this time Malachi laughed at her. Thomas felt himself starting to get really angry. He felt his arms begin to tremble with strength, and he was scared. He didn't know what any of it meant.
"Say it, boy, or I can take your head and be done with it. I don't believe in this stupid prophecy anyway." He laughed and pressed harder against Thomas chest.
Thomas looked back at Malachi's intense eyes, brought his arms up quickly in front of his sword and grabbed him by the collar. "I said, get off of me!" he shouted. Then he threw Malachi across the room and into the wall. Everyone looked stunned by the display of strength Thomas had just shown, but no one was more shocked than Thomas. "I don't need this!" he yelled. "I don't need any of this; and I don't need any of you!" He grabbed his backpack off the floor and was out the door before any of them could say a word.
*****
Stephen was helping Malachi, because he appeared to be injured. Thomas' throw was hard enough that when Malachi hit the wall, he dislocated his shoulder. Asa ran out to the yard to try and track where Thomas had gone. Abby could not believe what had just happened. What was Malachi thinking attacking TJ?
Abby came up alongside Asa and said, "I have to go after him, I can bring him back."
"You had better hope so; it may already be too late. He should not have threaten
ed going to Devlin. That was most unwise."
"He was just frustrated, he wouldn't have done it. He was just trying to convey the importance of having all of the necessary information, Asa." Her tone let him know she thought it was all his fault. "Malachi overreacted, too. He should not have put his sword to TJ's throat."
"No, that was ill-advised," he agreed. "You just find him and bring him back. I will smooth things over with Malachi. On the bright side, he seems to have overcome his caution and he is stronger than any of the council believed him to be."
Abby couldn't believe this was happening. She fixed Asa with a look that showed both concern and fear, then she asked, "Will the council really order his death?"
"If he will not join us, or seeks out Devlin, they will have no choice." Abby didn't know what to do, she was in essence being forced to choose between her loyalty to her betrothed and her loyalty to her people. She hoped for both of their sakes that she could convince Thomas to come back.
"I will find him then, no matter what!" she replied. In short order, she had packed a backpack of her own, knowing her time with Asa and his people would be over if she failed to find Thomas. Asa hated her family, and while he might have treated her okay, she had no doubt he would try to put the blame for his failure on her as a slight towards her family. When she had everything she believed she would need, she was out the door without a word. Part of her wanted to be free from the others anyway. If she found herself in a bind she could always call her family. They were the only ones she knew she could trust anyway. The Fitzpatrick family always looked out for each other, and they especially looked out for her. She loved every one of her five brothers and twenty-three cousins. She was both the youngest, and the lone girl in the entire family. In their eyes, she was a princess. She knew she would need them before this was over. Thoughts of her family almost eased some of the worry she had about Thomas, but she needed to find him fast. Her first stop would be to stake out his uncle's house.
Chapter eight
Thomas just kept running. He had no idea what he was going to do now. He was pretty sure his new acquaintances were going to be trying to kill him at some point, but he was happy to be away from them. He didn't like or trust any of them except Abby, which he felt was ironic. Maybe that was for the best. Being with her was just as frustrating as it was exhilarating. His newfound strength was beginning to frighten him. While he ran, he wondered, Where did I get the strength to throw Malachi across the room?
He finally stopped running almost five miles from the safe house. What am I going to do now? There's nowhere I can go. He was just a few blocks from Uncle Pete's house. I'm sure that either Devlin or Asa will have goons watching my uncle's house, but I need to get in there. There were a couple of good things about his artificial cautious nature. Caution had caused him to pack the bag for a quick exit at his apartment and the safe house. He had also packed three thousand dollars into that bag. He had that cash, along with his passport in his pocket now.
Caution had also caused him to leave some other necessary items at his uncle's house. He had placed five thousand dollars, and the key to his safety deposit box at Wells Fargo in his uncle's safe. He approached the house from a neighbor's yard. He had been cutting through this particular yard for years and knew the blind spots, so he would be difficult to see from out front. He knew the window to the left of the back door of his childhood home was always open about a third of the way. Aunt Laura had always liked to have some fresh air mixed in with the air condition. Uncle Pete felt it was a waste of energy, which meant waste of money. Uncle Pete would always pretend to be mad, but Thomas had caught him more than once opening the window in the morning before his wife woke up. He remembered his wise cracks to his uncle about wasting energy, but his uncle would just wink. Thomas eventually figured out that it was just one of the ways his uncle would tease his aunt, but that he really didn't mind.
Thomas knew he needed to be careful; he had spotted a man in a grey Nisan Altima parked across the street from his uncle's house. He had also spotted a falcon sitting high in a tree across the street. That was an odd bird to be in this area so he figured it was a Dark Shifter. He ran the twenty-five feet from his neighbor's yard to Uncle Pete's back door. Being as quiet as he knew how, he popped out the screen window and climbed in. He moved through the house without making a sound, thankful that both his aunt and uncle worked at their store on Saturdays. As he walked through the living room, he noticed his aunt's favorite shelf, and for the first time, he realized that all of his aunt's favorite stuff had been gifts from him. He looked upon the ceramic ... whatever it was, he had made in fourth grade. He looked at the golf statue he had given Uncle Pete on his birthday, the world's greatest Aunt mug he had given Aunt Laura for mother's day when he was fourteen. There must have been twenty things on this shelf, and it was all from him. I wonder if Aunt Laura and Uncle Pete really do cherish these trinkets, or if it's all just part of the lie. He broke out of his depressing thoughts and moved to his uncle's room to get his stuff from the safe.
After getting his money and the key to his safety deposit box from the safe he entered the garage, and there it was on the top shelf, a tent that folded up really small to make it easy to carry, and a sleeping bag so thin that it only weighed a little over a pound. He also found a large water bottle sitting snug in its holder and a pair of hiking boots tied together, and draped through a carribeaner, hanging from a hook below the shelf. This is everything I'll need to get lost in the forest for a while. He attached the gear to his backpack and prepared to leave.
Thomas had been able to stash a lot of money away over the years because he never did anything elaborate. He had received a trust for fifty thousand dollars from his parent's insurance policy, and he hadn't used much of that money. He had been on one vacation since high school, didn't party much and his hobbies were not that expensive. Even his laptop was the cheapest model he could find. The only thing he spent money on was his bike, and that was pretty much a onetime expense, except for the occasional tire. Other than that, he had been able to save most of the money he had made since high school.
Thomas took off his sweat-drenched shirt, and left it on the shelf where his gear had been. He wiped his sweat with a towel from the dryer, and grabbed one of his uncle's Panama Jack casual shirts and buttoned it up. He also grabbed an old fishing hat and put on his sunglasses. He hoped that with the backpack he would look like a random drifter walking through town, but first he had to get out of the house unnoticed. He walked back through his uncle's house and picked up his uncle's phone. He called his boss and got the voice mail. He dabbed at the sweat still forming on the back of his neck while he left the message.
"Doug, it's Thomas. I've run into a bit of a family emergency and I'm going to be out of town for a couple weeks in Louisiana. Cell service is sketchy there. I'll call you when I have more info."
He hung up the phone and left the house. He climbed back out the window he had used to get in. He popped the screen back into place and sprinted into the relative safety of his neighbor's yard. After a quick jog, he was several blocks away. He hoped he hadn't been noticed as he ran. By this point, he was in south Arlington and, his next stop would be Dick's Sporting Goods at the Parks Mall.
Thomas almost felt like a depression was setting in over everything that had happened. Without warning, a thought struck him like a physical blow. I may never be able to go home again. What did I ever do to deserve this? He sat down on a bench outside the store and put his face in his hands. After nearly thirty minutes, he finally stood up and entered the store. He dragged himself into the store and lumbered past the clothing, past the fishing section, and past the team sports section, right to the bike section. He was able to get the attention of one of the employees to come over and help him.
"Welcome to Dick's. How may I help you today, Sir?" the gangly teenager asked in a voice that hadn't finished changing yet. He was wearing the tan khakis, and forest green, three button shirt standard for al
l Dick's employees.
"I'd like to purchase a mountain bike. I need it to be mid-level on the price, but sturdy enough for a long journey. What can you show me?" Usually the prospect of buying a new bike would be exciting, but today it held no pleasure,
"I have just the bike, Sir." He led Thomas over to a muted blue mountain bike with a North Face logo just beneath the handle bars. Thomas was unfamiliar with the particular brand of the bike, but thought that if it was partnered with North Face, it wouldn't be bad. It was the only bike in his price range so he decided to test it out.
"Can I get on it and see how it feels?" Thomas asked, and then took his backpack off and laid it on the floor.
"Sure," the employee replied. "Here you go." He let Thomas take hold of the handlebars.
"Thanks," Thomas said while swinging his leg over the bike and resting his foot on the pedal. He put his other foot on the remaining pedal, and began a slow ride around the nearly empty section. After a few moments, he dismounted the bike and uttered, "I'll take it." He could barely muster a smile.
"Follow me up to the register, Sir," the happy employee said. Thomas grabbed a small bicycle pump on the way to the register. Then he purchased the mountain bike and the pump.
He left Dick's as the mall was closing. He kept a keen eye on everyone around him. Maybe a quick meal at the nearest Sonic will help me feel a little better. Then I'll ride under the cover of night to the campsite. He knew he should be able to ride the ninety-five miles to Eisenhower state park and arrive before morning. Then he would set up his tent and take a few days to figure out what his next move would be. He made one more stop to pick up a burner phone before he set out to leave the Metroplex.
He arrived at the campsite early the next morning. He was right smack on the boarder of Texas and Oklahoma looking over beautiful Lake Texoma. Tall trees and paths surrounded the lake. A sheer rock face could be seen off in the distance. The sky was blue and the view was stunning. The ride had taken a little longer than anticipated due to the twenty pound backpack and the fact that he had purchased a mountain bike. The wider wheels caused more friction on the road, meaning he had to exert more energy to travel the same distance. He had chosen the mountain bike because he didn't know how long he was going to be staying at the campsite and it was a better choice for navigating the trails and hills of the park. He paid sixty-three dollars to reserve his camp site for a week. At that time he would decide if he needed more time to think or if he had a viable plan.
