by Jan Harman
“You believe in . . .” I couldn’t even bring myself to put it into words.
“Kind of hard not to when you’re raised around it and you’re a descendant of the human branch of the Ireland clan. Our house is steeped in lore and tradition. Plus my dad is an elder, so I’ve gotten plenty of lessons on duty. Bet you didn’t know that I’ve envied you for years, well not the latest part. Current events have changed my mind. I’d have to say it’s definitely easier to have grown up with the knowledge than have it thrust into your face, so to speak.”
Memories of Shadow’s face dissolving into nothingness still stole my breath. I clutched the koala bear to my chest, stroking the fuzzy fur surrounding its hard, plastic nose.
“I’m sorry. Me and my big mouth.” He tilted his head to the side to get a look at my face. “You look like you could jump out of your skin. I can call your aunt?”
I shook my head, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the pile of toys. I wished I was five years old again and living on the other side of the globe. “What was there to envy?” I asked in a small voice, delaying the hard questions.
“You’ve seen the world. You didn’t grow up monitoring your reactions to comments, stories, movies, etc. You just got to be and think like everyday folks.”
His easygoing demeanor—unlike the charged atmosphere earlier in my basement—helped to uncoil the knot in my stomach. Maybe I could handle this. “Is it so bad?”
“It’s normal to me, as strange as that sounds right now.” He slipped an arm around my shoulder and tucked me against his side. “Things are sure stirred up. Everyone is pretty upset with Shad. I mean, no way were you ready for a change over. Talk about cruel. His clan is so fired up that he’s staying at our compound. Folks are running a step or two behind panic.”
“Why?”
He stared at me, astonishment written across his face. “You have to ask? Maybe Shad was right about you being too removed from us to think of the Whisperers as anything but creatures.”
“That’s not helpful or fair. I don’t even know what a Whisperer is or does or . . . nobody has told me anything specific. Don’t tell my aunt, but after what I saw, a part of me is still holding on to crazy as the sane option.”
“Way to screw up, Shad. That certainly explains why Shade wants to tear him from limb to limb. Hell, I’d get in line for a shot, but that would just earn me another one of my dad’s lectures on, ‘the value of discourse over fist,’” he said, puffing out his chest, his expression stern.
My lips quivered, a smile almost formed. “Not to mention getting you grounded. Then who would I drag to chick flicks?”
“I’m so sorry; this must be nightmarish for you.”
“There is so much I don’t know. It feels like I’ve lost my parents all over again. I wish they were here to talk to about all of this.”
“The valley meant everything to your dad.” Trent paused and added after a moment of silence, “Almost everything. He gave you a different life. Folks can’t figure out why. Some feel betrayed and others confused. Folks assumed you’d be open and prepared for your future when your time came. Your status is unheard of. It has left the clans unsettled.”
I waved my hand at the pile of toys, one eyebrow raised. “They’re unsettled? They live here.”
“Some of their feelings towards your dad are spilling over onto you. Ignore them. Your aunt and Shade,” he said, saying Shade’s name as though he had to drag it out, “have been trying to calm the situation. For the most part, folks around here feel real terrible about what you’ve been going through and are truly glad to have you here. They want to help you get better and stronger.”
I thought of Shadow’s disappearing head and shivered. How many felt like him impatient and resentful? “I don’t think I can do this warden thing. That’s what Shadow wanted to know, right? What exactly do the clans want with me?”
“Don’t say it like you’re on the dinner menu. You’re the warden, or you will be in the future. Olivia, you’re beloved.”
“I’m insane.”
He laughed. “Then move over. We’ve got to crowd a valley’s worth of folks in here. Was that a smile? Half of one? I’ll take that. Come on, let’s go do something.”
“I don’t think Aunt Claire will let me.”
“You’re not a prisoner. The holidays are almost here. Tell her you’ve got shopping to do. We’ll browse the shops along Main Street.”
“You’ll browse?”
“That’s not my thing. I’m your designated bag holder and errand boy.”
“What’s an errand boy’s job description?”
“It’s a lengthy list. I’m tall, so I dig to the back of shelves that you can’t reach. I flirt with Mrs. Jenkins at the Emporium, so we can get an extra dollop of whip cream on our hot chocolate. You laugh?” He cracked a grin. “Trust me, it’s an important assignment. I’m wide, so I can clear a path through the crowds. No pushing and shoving for my lady. Plus, I know the guy who drives the carriage up and down Main Street. We won’t have to wait in line.”
“Tempting,” I said.
“Do I still hear a but?”
“Aunt Claire.”
“If I can convince her, will you go with me? Please?”
“I’m afraid.” There I finally admitted it. Trent continued to give me his earnest, puppy dog look. Did this guy really not care that I was a mess? “I need answers and time to sort this all out. My head is spinning.”
“Answers are your aunt’s department.”
“But—”
“Sorry, as my father reminded me, I’m a friend, not an elder. Don’t look scared. You know the worst thanks to Shad. They’re good folks. Ease into this. In the meantime, you’ve serious shopping hours to make up for.”
He stood, shoved a clear path through the toys, and then bowed from the waist. “Errand boy at your service, my lady.” His hands slid around my waist with his fingertips nearly touching in the back. Once I was steady on my feet with my crutch in hand, he kissed my cheek. Grinning broadly and with his eyes sparkling full of mischief, he said, “I forgot to tell you one very important duty that’s particular to this errand boy. I’ve already scoped out all the shops that have hung mistletoe.”
The quaint downtown garbed in its holiday finest was everything I’d hoped for when I dreamed of a place to call home. Strands of twinkling lights edged the buildings, coated the trees, and spiraled around the roof of the bandstand. Streetlights wound with garland displayed holiday banners decorated with wreaths and bells. Themed trees decorated store windows for the annual Best Dressed Tree Contest.
Despite the festive air, I couldn’t make myself climb out of the safety of Trent’s truck. Every time someone walked by, I checked the lock on the door and breathed hard enough to fog up my window. After the carolers strolled past our parking spot a second time, Trent reached for the ignition.
“Wait. Just a couple more minutes,” I said, putting out a hand to stop him. He glanced down at my right boot tapping the underside of the dash and grimaced. “Sorry.” I uncrossed my legs. “Freaking weird is an understatement.”
“I thought getting you out would help, but this was too soon. We can try again tomorrow.”
“Does everyone in town know about, them?” I couldn’t bring myself to say more. It was just too normal out there. Moms and toddlers were lined up to see Santa and to pet a reindeer. Shoppers were smiling and dropping coins into the Salvation Army’s kettle. Small town America stuff and I was on the verge of a panic attack.
“At first everyone knew, then when civilization encroached and especially after we landed on the tourist radar, the council enacted stricter laws limiting the knowledge of the Whisperers to protect their existence. Think of it as need to know. Unless a human is an elder’s heir like me, or part of a dual species family, knowledge is disseminated based on the situation as judged by the individual clans.
“Dual species?” I stammered. “You mean marriage?”
“It’s not u
nheard of in a tight knit community especially since the Whisperers don’t move away. More weirdness, sorry.”
“They just live and work like normal people?” I said in a high pitched voice that didn’t even sound like me.
“Well sure, I mean they have to earn a living right? Primarily it’s ranching. Generally, the members prefer living with their clans in communal settlements. It makes it easier. They don’t have to be so cautious every second of the day. Then there are those clan folks that prefer to keep to themselves to insure their culture survives. They spout all this purity rhetoric as if they could survive on their own in this world. You know how people love to gossip and speculate. It’s no different in Spring Valley. It’s just that here things really are different only folks can’t put their finger on the specifics. Those of us in the know are sworn by age old oaths to absolute secrecy. This goes for you even though you’ve not taken any oaths yet.”
“You’re okay with this. I mean you can stroll down the street knowing that—”
He squeezed my hand. “Take a deep breath. It’s not a big deal.”
My eyes flicked between holiday shoppers. I had up until recently no idea that Shade was different. Maybe it wasn’t anything obvious. “How do you tell?”
“It takes more than casual observation. Otherwise they’d all be locked up in a government lab by now. They’re taught from an early age to be extremely careful. I’ve grown up around them. They work on our ranch, so I’ve developed a sort of sense about them.”
“Could you be more vague?”
“Alright, I’ll tell you something, but if asked, I’ll deny the conversation. Aside from generally being tall, slender, and blond, you can get a read on them by checking out their slightly almond shaped eyes. Flecks of white are released, creating distinctive textures and patterns depending on their emotions, talent, and skill levels. The use of sunglasses and dark tinted glasses help hide the condition from the tourist. If asked, Spring Valley has reported a significantly higher than average occurrence of individuals with extreme light sensitivity. The clinic has gotten grants to study this genetic trend. See, with the right precautions it’s possible to hide in plain sight.”
“Great, now I’m going to be nervous anytime someone wearing sunglasses strolls by,” I said, keeping my voice down when a couple passing the truck couldn’t take their eyes off of me. How had I missed all the staring? “Let’s try something less unsettling. How many clans are there?” I asked not sure if I wanted to know or if it mattered. No doubt tomorrow I’d wake up in a padded cell, and this would’ve turned out to be an intense hallucination.
“Two full clans, the Pepperdines being one, came over along with five partial clans and a group of nonaligned folks. The Pepperdines and the Cassidys made up the largest contingents.” His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “Your face is whiter than the snow. Please, let me take you home.”
“So Aunt Claire can go on as if everything is perfectly fine. I don’t think so. Tell me something useful about being the warden.”
“I’m not supposed to.” He rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. “You’re killing me here. I hate seeing you work yourself into a state over nothing. Being warden is no big deal. The Elders Council handles most of the day-to-day stuff. Think of the position like an ambassador’s job. Spring Valley recently celebrated its bicentennial. Everything major was settled ages ago. That’s probably why your dad stayed with the State Department. But I wouldn’t pack your bags just yet. The people want you to get . . . a sense of them.”
At the gas station, that father and his sons had shown up just to see me. Folks had bought me stuff like I was a celebrity. “So I’m just a figurehead,” I said, giving a sigh of relief.
“Not exactly. Let’s just say as warden you keep the calm.”
“Oh?” I had a feeling his phrasing meant something that he wasn’t allowed to discuss, and it was tied to my father’s visits. I added that to the list of growing questions for my aunt.
“Keep telling yourself that it’s no big deal,” he said as he leaned across me and opened my door, letting the cold air in.
“Right. No big deal that I woke up and found myself in Oz.”
“I’d go with alternate reality. It has a cooler ring to it. It’s your call. Stay or go?”
“I’ll try one store. I won’t promise more. I won’t promise that I won’t have a total mental breakdown if someone looks at me wrong.”
“It’s the same folks that have been here since you arrived,” a deep, soothing voice said from my open door.
“Get lost, Shade. I’m handling this,” Trent said, his lips pulling down into a scowl.
“Honestly, Cassidy, couldn’t you give her time to adjust?”
“Right, like hanging out in her room all freaked out was healthy. Give me some credit. What could be more ordinary than holiday shopping?”
“You’ve been sitting out here for almost twenty minutes. Maybe she’s not ready.”
“Are you spying on us? Forget it; you had your shot. It was a bust.”
“This isn’t a competition. Olivia’s had quite the shock.”
“Thanks to your brother,” Trent retorted.
“That was unfortunate.”
“I’m sure that’s how your new warden sees it. Olivia was doing just fine until you showed up. Now she’s shaking.”
“Olivia, if—”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Trent said, cutting Shade off.
“Actually, I just got off of work,” Shade replied, leaning casually against the frame of the open passenger door as though he had all the time in the world. “Hattie says, ‘hi’ and to stop in. She’s got a present for you, Olivia.”
“For me?” I said, not quite able to make myself turn and look at him fully. It was bad enough that my mouth had gone dry. Now all I could think about was what Trent had said about their eyes revealing their emotions.
He held up a rectangular box. “I figured the one with the purple bow was yours, so I took the green one.”
That would make it easier. I promised one shop. Surely I could handle Hattie? I risked tilting my head up just a little. Dressed in an unzipped jean jacket over top of a blue plaid, flannel shirt that brought out his eyes, Shade looked unprepared for the white flakes sticking to his collar. I remembered toasty heat keeping me warm in a blizzard and lowered my gaze.
“I could pop in,” I replied. At least I sounded like I was taking all of this in stride. Knowing Shade, he probably saw right through me.
“I’ve got some shopping to do myself. If it gets to be too much, give me a holler. I’ll be glad to take you home.”
Trent intertwined his fingers with mine “Get lost, Shade. She doesn’t need a babysitter.”
“I don’t know about that. She’s stuck with you, isn’t she?” Shade chuckled.
I shrunk against the seat, staring at Shade’s retreating back, feeling exposed. Talk about a prime moment for a breakdown. But I’d done more than hold it together. Nothing about his expression had felt threatening or foreign. He was just Shade. Was that a healthy, normal reaction, I wondered, as Trent helped me out of the tall truck or just a case of serious denial?
Hattie’s eclectic shop was across the street. I tried to angle us that way, but Trent took my elbow and steered us through the doors of the Emporium. The spicy aroma of ground coffee hung in the air. Crystal plates filled with samples of fudge, peppermint bark drizzled with chocolate, and white mounds of creamy divinity were set out on the counter. My mouth watered, reminding me of how little I’d eaten today. Even so, I pulled back on his arm.
“Errand boy, remember?” He prodded me towards the sitting area. “I owe you hot chocolate.”
“Are people looking at me?”
“No, star football player here, remember? I won the regional title single-handed.”
“The paper mentioned something about the rest of the team being on the field.”
“My mother taught me to share.” He grinned.
“I had to give them the ball once or twice.”
“I’d rather sit in the back,” I said when we stopped next to the booth by the door.
“Fine, you pick a spot while I get our drinks.”
“You’re leaving me!”
“I’ve got to place our order.” He patted my hand that was locked to his arm. “Ordinary day, remember. Hum a holiday tune.”
Like a prairie dog ready to pop into its hole or in my case under the table at the first sign of anything weird, I kept scanning the patrons browsing amongst the shelves. Once or twice I caught a curious glance. Usually the eyes slid quickly to the side, but in the case of an older lady, her sneer pressed me against the cushions of the booth, holding me immobile until she stepped outside. Three middle-aged gentlemen joined her at the window, pressing their tense, unwelcoming faces to the glass. Their glares executed like mental blows, leaving my ego bruised and shaken. I rubbed my arms and turned away, searching for Trent. Beloved? Yeah, right! I regretted not inviting Shade along. There were serious undercurrents in this community, and my father had left me smack dab in the middle of them.
Chapter 9
An hour later, at a sedate pace for Trent, the truck turned off the main road and onto a steep gravel drive cutting through the middle of a stand of snow-covered pines. Here on this isolated stretch, far from curious faces, my string-tight muscles loosened as thoughts of the latest round of life upending changes sloughed away, falling much like the snow from overburdened boughs with a splat, waiting to be handled later.
While Trent kneaded his knuckles across my shoulders, I fiddled with the radio, flipping past stations broadcasting holiday songs. The glare from the sun shining on smooth stone caught my eye. I did a double take. “This is where you live?” I asked, sitting forward to get a better view of the structure still partially hidden by the forest. Massive white blocks of marble had been precisely sculpted to transform the cliff into a medieval castle with two turrets. A knee-high, stone wall bordered the gravel drive as it rose through a series of tight turns.
