FOREVER The Constantines' Secret: A Covenant Keeper Novel

by S. R. Karfelt

  Kahtar shoveled food into his mouth as the conversation moved from the Samhain celebration at the cave that morning, to offering a priestly position to The Mother’s daughter in hopes that she’d return to the Arc now that Delphine Green had returned, and whether or not bubble tea would taste good when made with brack tea.

  Some twisted part of Kahtar, a relation to that part that always went first into battle, or refused to talk under torture, brought up the landmine topic, interrupting Silas Jacobson’s pontificating about the dangers of a female priest and Nehemiah’s soliloquy on what exactly brack tea smelled like. “—like earth in a feminine way, or have you ever been to the Fortunate Isles? There’s a still pool there, above the waterfall by the—”

  “I promised Honor I’d pull a few hours at the station for him tonight, so if there’s something you wanted to say to me, we best get to it.”

  All conversation stopped as they waited for The Mother to weigh in. She finished chewing a mouthful of chicken, and her eyes went quickly from one Elder to another before she responded. “If you needed to relinquish your role as chief of police, who would you recommend for the position?”

  This he hadn’t expected, and as his mind flittered over his choices frustration won out. “Maybe I’ve just gotten too used to Beth’s candor, but how about you tell me why you’d want to replace me as police chief? What are you really asking?”

  Elderly quester Orange Stoddard exchanged stunned glances with Father Wixen while The Mother glared. “I’ve asked you exactly what I really needed to know, and I’d thank you to be polite. This is not a game of intrigue, Kahtar Constantine. This is something I’ve considered since I found out Beth’s father was a seeker last year. Your closeness to the world of seekers could compromise your mission there, especially now that we’ve cut off communication between Beth and her parents. If they come looking for her it’s best if you’re not involved at all.”

  Putting his elbows on the table, Kahtar leaned toward The Mother. “If Beth’s parents were to come looking for her and I’d vanished like Beth and Dianta, the publicity could be irrecoverable.”

  Every head in the room swiveled toward The Mother.

  “You make it sound like the safety of this entire clan could be compromised by Beth’s parents.”

  “The safety of this entire clan could be compromised by any seeker in the village of Willowyth, especially if we took away their families, forcing them to examine us! We say we participate in the world of seekers to help them, but unless we seclude ourselves and retreat to the Arc there is always risk. You know that, we all do.”

  “I am referring to immediate threat.”

  “Permanently keeping Beth from her parents makes Ted and Carole White the highest exposure threat to the clan.”

  Abigail Adit’s second voice sounded inside Kahtar’s head. “Are you actually trying to get sent into the mists, accompanied by Beth and her parents?”

  Kahtar held The Mother’s gaze. “There’s no point in replacing me as chief of police at this time. Right now Beth’s parents think she’s on a buying trip to Mongolia for brack tea, with Dianta. There is no risk.”

  “Thank you, Kahtar. I’m perfectly aware of that. My concern is for when they stop believing that.”

  “I don’t foresee that as being an issue. The problem is going to resolve itself.”

  “Oh? Please enlighten me. What has changed?”

  “Beth apologized to me over a week ago. I expect Honor’s apology will follow. The shunning will end. In time there’s no reason she couldn’t resume some sort of relationship with her parents, even if it’s just a ruse for the sake of security.”

  “Well played, you bastard.” Abigail’s second voice sounded amused. “But try to remember that I’m an old woman. If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll escort you into the mists myself.”

  Nehemiah fingered his beard. “Do you think she meant it? My gut makes me question her sincerity.”

  “Me too,” said Silas Jacobson.

  “You would have to wonder,” said Orange Stoddard’s very young wife, easily a century younger than her quester husband, “what took her so long? She’s very uncooperative. It reminds me of Delphine, which is ironic isn’t it? I mean, she liked our Warrior Chief too.”

  “Elnova, don’t perpetuate girlhood rumors,” said The Mother, shaking her head at the slight woman, with an apologetic glance at Kahtar.

  “Oh, I do apologize! Delphine was just a girl back then. She’s Tener Mulier now, I’m sure she’s much more cooperative—”

  Abigail interrupted. “Do you have a point, child?”

  Elnova straightened, missing the glare Kahtar shot at her. “Yes, I do. Beth came to me asking to have funeral clothes made a full week after the Glory announcement that I was donating our supply of white fabric to Clan Uragh. They lost fifty warriors to the Middle East. Beth knew that but still asked me to set aside yards of material for what she needed instead of just borrowing clothing until next season. She thinks of herself, not the clan. Notice her apology came only after she was cut off from her parents, not when it would have soothed discord among the warriors. She let it go all the way to a shunning!”

  A chorus of agreement rose, with several loudly questioning Beth’s motives.

  “You’re probably right,” Abigail piped up, stirring the pot. “Beth’s lying has got to stop.”

  The absurdity of Beth lying silenced the mob mentality for a moment. “Abigail,” The Mother chimed in, “I hardly think Elnova meant to imply that Beth lied, I think she meant Beth’s timing is suspect.”

  “Oh, is that it? As far as the funeral clothing goes, Anwyn, didn’t you punish Beth for not having the right clothes? I assume that’s why she was running around the cave barefoot last winter. It sounds to me as though she asked and was refused. Elnova, did you suggest Beth borrow something instead? She doesn’t know our ways! She asked for what she needed and you refused her, expecting her to know what to do next.”

  “If she spent time with us, she’d learn our ways.”

  “Excuse me. I’m still speaking. You’re all accusing Beth—who doesn’t lie because she literally can’t—of apologizing without meaning it? You might have to explain that one to me, Anwyn,” said Abigail.

  “Well,” The Mother argued, “what exactly did she regret? And how much time will Honor wait for his apology?”

  Abigail slammed a wrinkled hand onto the table. “Look, none of you are giving her an inch! Elnova, if you had to leave the Arc where would you get seeker clothes at? You have no idea! And how would you feel if Nehemiah punched you in the face and broke your nose, and Orange shoved you across the floor for bleeding, and The Mother told you to apologize to them for making them hit you?”

  Elnova eyed her gray-haired husband while fingering her little upturned nose. “That’s not the same thing.”

  “It is to Beth!” Abigail argued. “That is exactly how she sees it. The fact that she tries to see that situation from our point of view is huge. The least we can do is see it from hers and give her time!”

  “We have given her time,” said Silas Jacobson. “And I for one want to know what kind of apology she gave to Kahtar. On top of that I want to reiterate to our warrior chief that he is not to coach Beth on this subject at all. He agreed to stand with the warriors in this shunning. Any apology has to come from her heart, out of regret for the shame she brought on Honor, on the warrior chief of this clan, and on all the warriors of Cultuelle Khristos!”

  The Mother looked at Kahtar. “I stand by that, Kahtar. We are not telling you to stay away from your wife, but we are telling you that if you interfere in any way, you have relinquished your role as warrior chief.”

  On that note Kahtar dropped his napkin on the table and stood. The conversation made the food churn in his stomach. He’d been as wrong as they were. Only centuries of experience kept his voice polite.

  “Thank you, Anwyn, for reminding me of my duty, and Memma Rosa, for a delicious meal. And of
course I appreciate all of you questioning the sincerity of my wife’s apology—ilu forbid I trust my own heart about it. In turn I would encourage you all to look into your hearts for your motivation in how you treat my wife, because your criticisms would be considered bad form even among seekers.” Kahtar fisted his hands against his sides but kept his voice even. “We as a people take great pride in judging based entirely on heart and nothing more, but, though Beth’s heart is as much Covenant Keeper as any of yours, you don’t trust it. The truth is you see her and treat her as less than and she knows that. Do you? Be honest. If nothing else we owe her our honesty. That is all I will ask, since it is now apparent that civility is beyond your capability.”

  Allowing himself a moment to make brief eye contact with each person at the table, Kahtar turned and left without another word, the equivalent of storming out after a temper tantrum in the eyes of the clan. Maybe they’d see that despite everything, he and Beth had at least their tempers in common.

  IF THEY THINK, Beth tugged Dianta’s tiny cap over her curly head, they can keep me in this compound without answering my questions they do not know me. It had been over a week since Kahtar’s farewell. Her car had been taken away, and access to computers and telephones cut off. The clan was shunning her openly, and even Welcome Palmer had barely spoken to her.

  After a week of despair, followed by mounting anger, Beth had set her mind to a solution.

  “Mommy can think outside the box.” Beth kissed Dianta’s dark cheek. “And someday I’m going to teach Daddy how.”

  “Gah! Mum. Mum. Mum!” Dianta chanted, gazing with worshipful eyes, Kahtar’s eyes. Beth was certain she saw black sparkling in their depths, very much like Memma Rosa’s.

  Bundled for outdoors Beth lamented the fashion and practicality of her too short dress coupled with a warm corduroy jacket and boots. There was nothing to be done for it. Even if she left her jeans completely unbuttoned, they were too uncomfortable to wear over her protruding pregnancy and there was nowhere to score another pair of jeans while trapped in Cobbson Compound. She pushed out of the apartment door into the dimly lit hallway.

  Nobody paid Beth much heed while she trotted up the corridor. In honor of Halloween Dianta sported a sparkly unicorn horn on the top of her hat, made in a pinch from a pointy paper cone and sequins off a belt. It bobbed as they walked to the atrium.

  “Yous makes the bestest unicorn ever!” Beth told her. Drool dripped down Dianta’s chin, which only made the unicorn cuter.

  “Gah, Mum!” she said, somewhat demurely in Beth’s opinion. They passed dozens of clan in the halls, all somehow resisting Dianta’s obvious charms in favor of shunning Beth.

  Evenings in the atrium were usually busy, but there had been a special Glory service earlier in the day and the Samhain celebration now spilled over to the popular abstract. Little kids slid down the glacier and young couples and teens played in the waterfall. Beth saw no sign of costumes or any of the trappings that made Halloween popular in the outside world.

  Walking through the crowd Beth searched until she spotted Honor Monroe at the top of the waterfall in his swim trunks. Several of the warriors who worked at the police station now wore swim trunks from the outside world instead of the standard clan kind. Beth thought it was a good call, since the cream colored diaper-looking ones revealed a very detailed outline of one’s junk. Every one of them had gotten the seeker trunks from her shop. She wondered if they were prepared to go back to the weenie wraps when these wore out.

  Honor leapt off the top of the falls, plunging twenty feet to the water and executing a spectacular cannonball that sprayed water over young women on the sidelines. Beth smiled. That’s the Honor I know. She made her way to the edge of the water as Honor climbed out. Pushing his dripping but still perfectly cut hair out of his blue eyes, he glanced at her and quickly looked away.

  “Hi, Honor,” she said, and cheated. “Deenty, this is Honor Monroe. Say hi.” She picked up Dianta’s arm and waved it in an adorable hello.

  Honor hesitated, but turned his back on them and got back in line to climb the waterfall. Beth followed, tromping over sandy beach and grass in her pink Timberlands. “I need to talk to you.”

  Honor didn’t turn around. Several of the young women cast their eyes in Beth’s direction. Beth wondered how Kahtar could have gone on about flaunting nudity in the clan with women’s swimsuits being what they were. Most wore tiny swim dresses that revealed more than enough when wet.

  “Look, I get the shunning thing. You all hate me because I won’t play by the rules, but how am I supposed to make it right if you won’t talk to me?”

  Honor turned to her, chewing his lip. A couple pretty girls were whispering in each other’s ears as they watched. Beth wasn’t certain what the clan term for cock block was, but she was pretty sure she was doing it.

  “Nobody hates you.”

  Beth breathed out a whispery laugh. “Don’t forget my gifting.” She glanced pointedly at the two young women. One had a finger aimed at Dianta’s unicorn horn as she shook her head. Beth raised her voice. “I remember when you were enamored with me. Aren’t you glad now that you never asked me to join with you? Imagine if I’d said yes!”

  That was enough for Honor. Furiously he took her elbow and moved out of line, away from the beach area to stand near the glacier. The happy screams of children provided some privacy there.

  “Fine. Apologize. Those are the only words I want to hear from you. And maybe add what has taken you so long.”

  “I can’t lie, that’s what’s taken me so long. But this has gone on long enough. I want to make it right with my husband. That means I need to make it right with you too.”

  “So I’m just a means to an end? That doesn’t sound very sincere.”

  “Yes, you are! But that’s all I’ve got, and I am sincere.” Beth took a deep breath. “Honor, I’m sincerely sorry you punched me in the nose and felt like you had to because of the way I was acting.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “No.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “I was expecting not to be attacked in the Arc by someone who doesn’t belong there or in this clan in the first place.”

  It hurt. Beth knew it was true, had known it was true even when she first came, but it still hurt. “But I am in the clan, Honor. Even if I don’t belong, I’m here now. Since I’m not going away, can you forgive me for not belonging, and give me some credit for trying? Please come with me tonight and tell Kahtar you understand and forgive me?”

  Honor laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. There was nothing left in him of the friend she once had. “But I don’t understand, Beth. All a Covenant Keeper has is their honor, and you took mine and Kahtar’s. The things you said to us—do you think we can forget them? And your only regret lies in the pain it caused you. Spare Kahtar your sham apology. You have no idea how much pain you’ve caused him. You would let it go if you did.”

  “Please, Honor? Come with me anyway. Let’s the three of us talk. I want to make it right. Help me to see your side.”

  “The fact is that you can’t make it right and neither can we, but it would be nice if you genuinely tried, and until you do, don’t talk to me again.” He stalked away.

  “Well.” Beth took a deep breath and swapped Dianta into her other arm. “That doesn’t bode well for how it’ll go with Daddy.”

  Beth made her way past the iceberg to the far side of the abstract where geometrically shaped tesseracts hung in the air as if by magic. It felt weird not to be stopped before she got to the one that went to Kahtar’s cabin. She could feel Honor watching her, but had no doubt that at this point she could walk out the front doors without someone stopping her. “They’re giving me all the rope I need to hang myself, just waiting for me to mess up worse!” Beth shivered. “But there’s no law being broken going to the cabin.”

  Standing at the narrow tesseract that would ta
ke her to her husband, Beth eyed it suspiciously. It didn’t have a distinctive shape and looked almost like a curtain, nearly hidden. Kahtar didn’t like company. Tucked into the crook of her arm, Dianta chewed her fingers and bounced in place, content for the moment. Beth kissed her nose. “At least Daddy likes your company.”

  She stepped into the tesseract.

  BLOODY DARK—AUTUMN NIGHT

  AFTER THE BRIGHT daylight of the abstract, it took Beth a moment to adjust to the lack of light on the other end of the tesseract. She could barely make out the outline of the wraparound porch, and there were no lights shining through the cabin windows. Dianta bounced in her arms, the sparkly horn bobbing as she chanted with enthusiasm, “Dah! Da, da, da.”

  “But where is Dah? He’s usually home on Friday night.” Beth’s eyes adjusted to the light of the young moon and she could make out the pond and tree line at the far end of the yard.

  Maybe he’s in the bathhouse. He doesn’t need light to see.

  Wishing she could scan too, Beth stepped onto the gravel driveway. A familiar chirping sound reached her ears and she froze, eyes straining toward the porch. Sitting on the railing were several strangely familiar shapes. Beth blinked several times, certain they couldn’t be real, but the distinctive shapes remained. She’d only seen them once on a family trip over the Shira Plateau when her dad had been stationed in Africa. Blue monkeys.

  “Shit,” Beth said, and guiltily covered one of Dianta’s listening ears, pressing the other against her chest.

  Why are there monkeys inside the veil? Where’s Kahtar?

  Movement between the gaps in the railing caught her attention. At least a dozen more of the big furry creatures loped into sight to wait on the porch steps. Beth whispered the rudest word she knew, keeping Dianta’s ears safely covered. There had to be at least thirty monkeys on that porch, and she had enough experience with monkeys to know how a gang of them treated a lone intruder.