I take a slow step forward, and he matches me by taking a step back, dragging Michaela with him.
“What’s your master plan here, Nathair? What exactly do you want at this point?” I say.
“Even trade. Mara for Michaela. No one needs to get hurt. I’ll just take her back to the house, and you guys can continue on your way. She’ll be none the wiser,” Nathair says.
“No,” Michaela shouts through his hand. It’s muffled, but I can tell what she wants.
“I’m afraid I’m not going to do that, Nathair. We’re taking Mara back. If we leave her here, more people will get hurt. Whatever you had going on with her is done,” I say.
I can tell it’s not what he expected by the uneasy way he shifts his weight from side to side. He honestly thought I’d trade and that would be the end of it. While it would be absolute torture to leave Michaela behind, it’s obvious this isn’t an offer she wants me to accept. No, if it comes to that, I’ll have to leave and come back for her. But I hope it won’t come to that.
Sure enough, my Reaper rescues herself. Michaela seizes the other Reaper’s moment of unease and bites his hand. He cries out in pain and loosens his grip on her, giving her the opportunity to stomp on his foot. She tries to run from him. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he yanks her back. Screaming in pain, she falls backward to the ground.
Horatia steps in and tries to free her, pounding on him, and I rush to their aid. The Reaper’s so busy dealing with Horatia’s fists, he doesn’t see me coming around behind him. It’s all too easy to get his hands behind his back and restrain him.
Michaela scrambles away, tears streaming down her face as she looks back at him. She’s not just physically hurt; she’s been attacked by someone she should have been able trust—an old coworker.
“What should we do with him?” Horatia asks.
My mind is racing. What can we do with him? I can’t restrain him and carry Mara. And I know the girls can’t handle him, not all the way back at least. They might be able to carry Mara if they work together, but if she starts to wake up, one of them will need to sedate her.
Michaela is the one who offers a solution. Her voice is low and dark, and it gives me chills. “I think we should lock him in the basement.”
“I…what?” I say.
“It’s no worse than what he did to me. Someone can come back for him after we’ve told everyone in the heavens what he’s done,” she says. She’s dead serious. She wants me to walk all the way back to the house with this lunatic and lock him in the basement.
“But that will take forever.” It comes out as a bit of a whine, but my point remains valid.
“Well, what do you suggest, Penn? What if he escapes us in the mists? Overwhelms us while we’re trying to manage Mara? He could ruin everything. I’m not sure that’s a risk I want to take,” Horatia says. Once again, I’m caught off guard by one of my sisters siding with someone else. Normally, we’re all so in sync.
“Can we even keep Mara out for that long? It’s going to take a few hours. And I think one of you should come with me. If he gets squirrely, it’ll be easier for two of us to restrain him.” Wait, did I just agree with them? I shake my head in frustration. “For the record, I still don’t think this is a good idea.”
“I’ll go ask Galenia what she thinks. She can be the tiebreaker, okay?”
“Fine,” I say. Nathair’s struggling in my arms, making me less than excited about what lies ahead. “Hurry up, will you? This isn’t my favorite thing.” He thrashes around and tries to head butt me, as if to emphasize my point.
Horatia nods and hurries back through the wall of mists. She’s back faster than I thought she would be.
“The two of us will go with you. Galenia says she’s fine on her own. We’ll run back here when we’re done to make up the time, okay?”
“Run?” The thought only exhausts me further. “I’m not sure I’ll have the energy for that.”
“You better find it, because you’ll have to carry Mara back through the mists when we’re done,” Horatia says. She’s not trying to make me feel worse; she’s just stating the facts. Still, the facts feel almost as heavy as Nathair.
“You couldn’t have just left us alone?” The bitterness I feel toward the man I’m restraining comes through in my voice.
He responds by trying to head butt me again. I dodge him easily and sigh. “It’s going to be like that the whole way back, isn’t it?” I turn to Horatia. “Think Galenia’s concoction will work on this one?”
She snorts. “I don’t think Galenia is sharing, particularly not for heavenly beings. Besides, it probably won’t have the same effect on him.”
I nod. “No probably not.” He tries the head-butt maneuver again, and I curse under my breath.
“I’m not going down without a fight,” Nathair insists.
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Hate to break it to you, Captain Obvious, but you already went down with the ship.”
About halfway back to the house, the fight goes out of Nathair. He starts walking along with me, as if he’s accepted his fate, but I don’t loosen my grip on him. For all I know, he’s trying to lull me into a false sense of security. He’s a loose cannon who’s in league with a woman who’s earned herself a one-way ticket to hell. My trust went out the door as soon as I found out he was a willing accomplice.
“So, Nathair, tell me. How did you meet Mara?” I ask. Part of me just wants to break the silence and monotony of our walk, but another part genuinely wants to know how a Reaper could turn so far from his intended path. Okay, so maybe that’s the pot calling the kettle black—I am a banished Fate, after all—but I still want to know.
He doesn’t respond for so long, I don’t think he ever will.
Michaela’s the one who gets him talk. “How did you stray so far from your roots?” she asks softly.
His face twists into a condescending sneer as he looks at Michaela. I want to slap him, but my hands are otherwise occupied. I already regret trying to engage him in conversation.
“My roots? My roots didn’t go very deep.”
“Clearly,” Michaela says.
“No one appreciated me, least of all that asshole Ryker. He’s too holier-than-thou for my taste, even for a heavenly being. When Mara showed up at one of my assignments and told me she needed a hand, I was more than willing to help her out.”
Michaela was quiet for a few paces, and I could tell she was reflecting on his words.
“You love her, don’t you?”
I stop dead, making Nathair jerk a little. Honestly, I don’t know what I expected her to say. But romance wasn’t high on the list.
“Hey,” he shouts.
“Sorry,” I say, even though I’m not.
He doesn’t answer her question, but now I’m intrigued. If she’s right, it would certainly explain what he’s done. I surprised myself by the lengths I was willing to go to for love. I think about Kismet withering away in the prison of souls and push Nathair a little harder.
“You do love her, don’t you?” I say.
He doesn’t need to answer me now. His silence is confirmation enough.
“What did she offer you, Nathair?” Michaela asks. “Did she say she loved you back? Were you dumb enough to believe her? The only one she truly loves is Shiloh. You know that, right?”
I’m shocked by her response. I’ve never heard something so harsh come out of Michaela’s mouth, even if it is the truth. She’s madder than I’ve ever seen her.
“Shut up,” Nathair barks. “Of course she loves me. Once Shiloh’s safe, we’re going to go somewhere where no one will ever find us. We’re going to be a family.” As soon as the words are out, I can tell he regrets revealing his vulnerability to us. He turns away from her and walks faster, jerking me behind him for a change, as if he wants to get away from Michaela.
“Shiloh is the only man in her life,” I say, “and he’s the only one there will ever be. She’s a Spinner in her own right—weaving l
ies, trapping innocents in her web.” I cluck a few times, as if what’s happened to him is a shame. “Do you think they’ll take pity on you for your soft heart?”
He tries to head butt me again. I start to laugh, and then something occurs to me. I saw him question her. His unease at her methods. “You’re not so tough are you, Nathair? You don’t like what she’s doing, at least not all of it. I heard you trying to get her to stop putting them in the prison. You know what she’s doing is wrong. Why abandon that completely?”
His voice is a little sad. “Like you said, I boarded the ship. There wasn’t any turning back. Might as well go down with it.”
I have no response. He’s so matter-of-fact. The situation is so ridiculous I can’t get my mind around it. A Spinner in love with his own creation. A Reaper in love with a human witch. How in the world did we get so off course?
By the time we get there, it’s almost sunrise.
“We need to work fast, or we’ll wake up Shiloh,” Michaela says. “If he’s not already awake.
“What can Shiloh do to us?” I ask, legitimately not understanding what danger he could pose.
“Nothing more than a delay. If he sees us, we’ll have some explaining to do. I’m worried about leaving Galenia alone with that woman for so long. We need to get back to her.”
Horatia speaks for the first time since we left our sister behind. “She’s stronger than she looks. Honestly, I’m not a bit worried about her.”
Part of me is surprised by her response, but I realize she’s right. Galenia looks slight, but she isn’t. She has a calming power that can overcome even the angriest adversary. She will be fine. Besides, I have no doubt that her concoction will keep Mara from doing any harm.
We ease our way into the house and pad down the hall. Michaela hesitates in front of Shiloh’s door, but I shake my head. She nods as she leads the way to the basement.
It’s harder to restrain Nathair as we go down the stairs, and he struggles enough to create a commotion. If Shiloh didn’t already know we were here, he does now. Maybe he’ll assume Nathair is just roughing Webber and Michaela around. It’s a dark thought, but I hope it’s enough to keep him in his room.
We eventually get the rogue Reaper to the bottom, and Michaela leads us into a small, dark room.
“What is this place?” I ask.
“It’s Mara’s prison on Earth. It’s where she kept me…and then Webber and me,” Michaela answers.
“Should we tie him up?” Horatia asks.
“Tie him to the pole. That’s what they did to me,” Michaela says coldly. “Let’s see him get out of that.”
Horatia grabs some rope off the wall, and I force Nathair to sit down in front of the pole in the center of the room.
“Who puts a giant pole in the middle of a small room like this? I mean, it really renders the room useless,” I say as I restrain Nathair’s thrashing. He’s fighting us right up to the end.
“I’m sure Mara will be grateful for your decorating advice,” Horatia says as she binds Nathair’s hands.
The three of us turn to look at him before we leave the room. “Well, goodbye for now. Someone will be back shortly to collect you,” Michaela says.
He spits at us, but it doesn’t have enough force behind it to even reach our feet.
“Yup. I think that about sums up how we feel about you,” I say.
We turn to leave, but a little boy is standing at the bottom of the stairs, blocking our way. Shiloh.
“What are you doing here?” he demands.
“Shiloh. You shouldn’t be up. Go back to bed,” Michaela insists.
“I told you to leave hours ago. What’s going on? Who are they?” He fires the questions off one after another. They almost bowl me over, but Michaela seems to instantly know what to do. She goes to him—stopping just short of touching him—and ushers him back up the stairs. She’s murmuring softly to him, but I can’t hear what she’s saying. Turning, I take one last look at Nathair tied to the post before I shut the door and lock it. I kind of think he would’ve flipped me off if his hands weren’t tied behind his back. His eyes are full of the kind of hatred humans usually reserve for each other. It feels out of place in a heavenly being.
As I slide the lock home, I find myself wishing we had a chair or something else to put in front of it. I mean, Michaela escaped from here, twice. What’s to say he won’t do the same? I sigh. All we need to do is buy ourselves enough time to get back to the mists. If he escapes, someone else will find him. Without Mara, he’s mostly powerless.
Horatia leads the way up the stairs, into the empty hallway. The door to Shiloh’s room is open, and I can see her sitting on the boy’s bed. She’s still talking to him in that same soothing voice.
He’s so gaunt it’s almost painful to look at him. His brown hair is dull in the dim light of the bedroom, and he’s so thin I can see his collarbone under his t-shirt. He’s literally wasting away. What parent would want this existence for her child? I know Michaela said we aren’t equipped to judge Mara, but I can’t help myself. The anger makes me restless.
I stalk into the living room and start to pace a large circle around the space. Horatia joins me.
“What’s wrong?” she asks quietly as she leans against the doorway leading to the hall.
I keep my voice low to avoid drawing the boy’s attention. “Look what she’s done to that poor boy! She doesn’t deserve a fair trial.”
“You’d better calm down before Michaela finds you like this,” she says, offering no words of comfort, agreement, or disagreement. It’s Horatia’s blunt way.
I know she’s right. I need to cool it, but I can’t. Seeing this little boy’s suffering has pushed me over the edge. I know it’s affecting Horatia too. After all, she’s the one who cut his thread short. And to see it made unnaturally long…
I can see the pain I’m feeling mirrored on her face.
“Do you think we could’ve changed things, Ratia? Used more care when we made her and the boy? Done things differently?”
She crosses the room and falls into my open arms. It’s the only answer I need. She feels the same pain I do over our wayward creation. We stand that way, trying to give each other strength, until Michaela joins us.
“Let’s go,” she says as she walks past us, clearly eager to get out of the house.
“Hey,” Horatia calls out, but Michaela doesn’t stop. Horatia breaks away from me and goes after her, with me right on her heels.
“Hey,” she calls out again.
Michaela keeps right on walking. “Let’s go,” she shouts, not even turning her head to look at us. She just charges forward toward the woods.
Horatia breaks into a run and catches up, grabbing her arm.
“Hey,” she says, turning Michaela to face her. We’re about halfway to the woods, standing in the middle of the yard. I’m a little uncomfortable to stand here so exposed, but I know better than to say anything.
“Hey yourself,” Michaela says. “We need to get back to Galenia.”
“Are you okay?” Horatia asks.
“No. I’m not,” Michaela chokes out. “I just had to tell a boy that his mother is being taken before God to answer for her crimes. He’s not grieving his mother’s death, he’s mourning her eternal soul, if there’s even anything left of it when God is done with her.”
Horatia takes her shaking hand, trying to steady her.
“But it doesn’t matter if I’m okay. I’m not important in this. Mara is important. Shiloh is important.” She looks at me. “Kismet, Andrew, and Lily are important. We have to get back.”
I nod. But while she’s right, while I know we should already be running toward the mists with every last bit of energy we possess, I hug her instead. And then I sweep Horatia into the embrace as well.
“It will be okay,” I say, drowning in a mass of blonde and brown hair and resisting the urge to blow it out of my face.
“And if it’s not, we’ll fight until it’s over,�
� Michaela finishes for me. I squeeze the two of them even harder, and we run back into the woods together.
When we find Galenia, morning is well on its way. She’s sitting next to Mara, who’s still completely out. She greets us with a warm smile when we come through the wall of mists.
“How did it go?” she asks as she stands up and brushes leaves and debris off her gold robe.
“I mean, it could’ve been worse,” I say, shrugging, trying to hide the fact that I’m pretty out of breath.
“Shiloh saw us,” Michaela says between pants, somehow knowing Galenia will understand the ramifications of that.
And she does. She gives her a huge, meaningful hug, as if trying to take all of our friend’s sorrow in one single embrace.
“I’m sorry,” I hear her whisper to Michaela.
“Me too,” she says in return.
“Are we ready? How’s she doing?” I nod toward Mara.
“She stirred twice. I’m concerned about what the chemicals might be doing to her. But we had no choice. When we get there, it becomes someone else’s problem, right?” she says, clearly hoping we’ll confirm her assumption.
Without hesitation, I answer, “Right.”
Though I have no idea where the energy comes from—besides necessity—I manage to sling Mara back over my shoulder and start walking.
When I glance back, I see Michaela walking between my sisters, holding their hands.
“It feels good to be going home,” she says as we walk deeper and deeper into the mists together.
I couldn’t agree more.
Eighteen
Michaela
The mists are soothing to my frayed nerves. I breathe them in as we walk, taking comfort from them, from the women at my sides. We’ve done it. We’ve ended it.
The urge to sit down and let the mists swallow me is overwhelming, but my companions keep my feet moving. I shut my eyes and breathe deeply.
When we get to the golden gate, we stand there—directionless. Not one of us wants to go through. It seems wrong to take such an evil being into our home. But we can’t take her into hell either. They’ll never let her go once they have her, however justified they may be. And while I doubt she’ll be going to heaven, I think we all deserve to see her go to trial. Those of us who have been affected by Mara’s chaos need closure. We need an explanation for what she’s done.
The Children of Wisdom Trilogy Page 41
