FOREVER The Constantines' Secret: A Covenant Keeper Novel

by S. R. Karfelt

  For one brief moment Kahtar tensed every muscle in his body, preparing himself for the blow he knew would come. Suddenly he propelled himself to stand, as far from Carole’s spear as possible and near his weapon. He nabbed the katar dagger off the peg and spun to face Carole at the same time her spear cracked against his ankles and swept his feet out from under him again. He tried to thread his fingers through the hilt of the weapon but there wasn’t time. Catching it with the pinky of his right hand, he grabbed Carole’s hair with his left and pulled her down with him.

  Kahtar sensed her spear slide across the floor and mentally criticized the small woman for losing her weapon so easily. They hit the floor together, Kahtar holding a handful of Carole’s short hair and her riding his torso like a horse. Bracing for impact and planning to roll onto her and claim first blood, Kahtar never expected a brutal knee to his balls.

  In battle they were protected by gear, and among warriors it would never happen in a fight unless death was on the line. He’d underestimated untrained fury. Everything in his torso seemed to try to escape the nearest exit; air and bowels felt as though they were going to explode out his penis or worse, if there was worse. Kahtar threw up stomach acid into his mouth. Somewhere in the back of his instinctual brain arose the urge to kill Carole. As soon as I can move again.

  Both her hands were on his right wrist, wrestling for the katar dagger. Refusing to lose any battle with the dagger he’d been named after in this repeat—this repeat that meant so much to him—Kahtar rolled onto Carole, pinning her down. He landed belly down and Carole grabbed his wrist, forcing him to slash his own blade down his face.

  She won.

  Kahtar couldn’t move. Not because he’d lost to Beth’s mother, twice, but because his left gonad seemed to be lodged inside his belly and had certainly been crushed. His head swam from lack of oxygen and pain caused a wave of nausea to shoot through every nerve in his body. He vomited into his mother-in-law’s hair.

  “You broke my arm,” Carole said in a faint voice.

  Instinct made Kahtar scan. He’d also dislocated her shoulder, broken her collarbone and the wrist of the hand she’d cut him with.

  Her voice sounded pained. “I think I cut your eye. Can someone fix that?”

  At that moment he didn’t give a shite about his eye. Kahtar wanted to pass out, to hide from the pain and somehow not dirty himself in front of this warrior.

  HIDING FROM A man who could scan seemed a waste of time. Hiding from her own mother seemed heartless, but Beth couldn’t bear looking into her mother’s grief-stricken eyes any longer. Right now she was too angry at both of them to care what either of them would say. If they were going to fight each other like a couple middle school would-be hoodlums, let them. She wasn’t going to stick around and watch. I just buried my father! Leaving her babies with Welcome Palmer, she ran.

  Not once in her life did Beth recall Carole touching her heart like a Covenant Keeper did, but it didn’t stop Beth from feeling the pain of her mother’s broken heart. Or the anger. Carole wore Ted’s death like the weight of a mountain, and her fury against Kahtar like a smoldering volcano. Beth needed a few minutes of peace. Not just from Carole, but from Kahtar’s desperate reassurances, and Teddy’s eternal crying—and, as shameful as it was—from Dianta’s heart endlessly seeking reassurance amidst chaos.

  Oddly enough living in the veil again didn’t frighten Beth. Kahtar had reassured her that all the monkeys had been relocated, and she felt safe. She hurried along the path past the pond, hoping she’d have at least a few minutes before someone hunted her down. The grass where Tartarus had been looked dead, worse than most of the winter grass.

  I died right there. Beth moved past the spot, wondering if she would always feel this numb. Tears blurred her vision as her boots crunched over dead leaves. No, I will always feel this hole Dad left behind. Part of her heart felt missing, amputated. Beth sniffled and wiped a cold hand under her icy nose, walking faster. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream. She wanted to rip trees out by the roots and curse at the universe. She settled for a slow jog that wouldn’t draw Kahtar’s attention right away, and that gave her time to dodge sticks and occasional roots littering the little traveled path into the woods.

  Despite her vigilant intentions, less than half a mile down the path Beth tripped over a root and sprawled headfirst, plowing leaves as she slid. Like a child she screamed into the earth. In little more than a year she’d married Kahtar, and had not one but two babies. She’d been shunned by the clan and her husband. She’d died and returned to the world of living by becoming some immortal-like being—something that provided only anxiety for the future, with no benefit day to day. Falling scraped her hands and skinned her knees like every other fall in her mortal life. Beth had discovered her husband was part-demon—though she’d suspected something like it for a while if she was honest with herself. Now she’d watched her father burned alive by a real demon. Something had broken in her heart, something that could never be repaired. That truth was inescapable.

  Beth covered her head with her arms. It’s too much. I can’t take it.

  The howl of a coyote sounded deeper in the forest and Beth pushed to her knees. Darkness arrived early this time of year and even this early in the afternoon daylight came shadowed so deep in the trees. One of the coyotes made a strange gurgling sound that reminded Beth of Wolves and she jammed the heels of her palms against her eyes and sobbed.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” interrupted a voice. “You are going to be all right in time. I know this, and you know this too.” Beth recognized Delphine’s sing-songy storytelling voice, and her friend’s tiny hands squeezed her shoulders. “It’s going to take a while, as it should. What I’m wondering is, do you need to get away for a while?”

  Beth uncovered her eyes. The pretty brunette crouched on her heels, her scarlet cloak and dark hair making her look like a sexy Red Riding Hood. She nodded in answer to Delphine’s question. “I shouldn’t though. Do you know what has happened?”

  No one had heard from Delphine since she’d offered herself up to Clan Aberdyfi. She couldn’t possibly know how much had transpired in such a short amount of time.

  Delphine wiped tears off Beth’s face with warm fingers. “Yes. I snoop around quite thoroughly. My heart aches for you. You’re one tough chica. I am devastated for the loss of your father.” Delphine’s heart pressed against Beth’s, offering comfort unlike any other. There was nothing but love there for the loss, love undiminished by judgement for his being a seeker. Even The Mother had been unable to offer condolences without relief evident in her voice. The clan no longer needed to worry about Beth’s meddlesome seeker father.

  Delphine leaned forward and kissed her quickly on her blessed spot. “You are so blessed to have had him. I envy you. But you need to get out of here for a bit, Beth. You can’t breathe here right now.”

  “I think the Old Guard are really watching the veil. Kahtar asked them to, even though Tartarus is dead and nothing else has happened here. One of them even pledged himself to me, and I have a feeling he watches me a lot. If you shouldn’t be here, you’re going to be in trouble because they will notice you.”

  “All the more reason for us to go now. Let’s go somewhere far. Sometimes you just have to run away from the pain, you know?”

  “I do know. I guess that’s what I was trying to do.”

  Delphine glanced around the forest path. “This really isn’t far enough after the year you’ve had.”

  “Kahtar will get mad.”

  “Oh, pooh. He’ll get over it. I’d invite you to Aberdyfi, but I haven’t chosen a spouse yet, so that’s probably not a good idea. They might decide you need to stay until I do. Where do you want to go, Beth? Do you like beaches? The weather’s nice in Australia right now.”

  Beth shook her head. “I don’t know where I want to go. I don’t care about beaches.”

  “Well, what needs done then? Turn your mind to something that needs to be done. You
still have the shop. I imagine it’s a mess if you haven’t been keeping it up. I know where you could score the absolute best chocolates on the planet.”

  “I don’t care about chocolate, Delphine. I don’t care about anything. It scares me.”

  “What needs to be done for your shop most of all?” Delphine asked it in her sing-songy voice and Beth found herself doubly compelled to answer.

  “We need brack tea. Despite everything that has happened, people have pestered me about it, including that Old Guard who pledged to me.”

  Grabbing Beth’s hands, Delphine hauled her to stand. The petite woman had some strength. “Where does brack tea come from? You know I’ve tried to find that stuff myself. You’ve got mad skills.”

  Some part of Beth slipped into business mode. “No stealing my source? On your honor?”

  “You have my word.” Delphine placed a hand over her heart.

  “Not that she’d sell to you. You wouldn’t believe the negotiating I have to do.”

  Delphine waved her left hand. In the dimming forest veins of light shot out, forming a tunnel. “China?”

  “Mongolia, and you swore. Don’t you forget it.”

  Delphine’s tunnel solidified. The storyteller grabbed Beth’s hand and tugged her inside it.

  “I THINK THERE’S a flaw in our plan,” said Delphine as they exited the tesseract to a blast of icy air and darkness “What’s the time difference?”

  “It’s about three o’clock in the morning here right now. That’s actually not a problem. Khunbish Cotota is a night owl, or an early bird. I’m not certain which. Is it possible to be so old you don’t sleep anymore?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Delphine. “I hate these steppes. This place is wretched. No wonder no one else has come out here looking for brack tea. I’m freezing my hoo-ha off.”

  “You’re vulgar.” Beth slipped her arm through Delphine’s, feeling oddly comforted to be here despite the darkness and the cold. As her eyes adjusted she could make out Cotota’s ger in the distance. The circular tent looked exactly like a yurt. Here on the steppes the portable home seemed to be the only kind. “Since you brought up your hoo-ha though, how’re things going with that quester of yours? What’s his name?”

  “Augustus,” Delphine sighed.

  Beth squeezed her arm. “Like that, is it?”

  “I wish. That’s why I haven’t been able to pick someone else. I want him.”

  Beth tried to remember that day in Persia. Her mind hadn’t been much on Delphine’s quester, but he’d seemed an honorable warrior. “Is he not as interested as you are?”

  “Oh, no. He definitely is. He just doesn’t know how much yet.”

  For the first time in weeks Beth chuckled. The poor guy wouldn’t know what hit him by the time Delphine finished with him. As they approached the ger her smile faded. “Just be honest with him, Delphine. Don’t use your storytelling on him.”

  “I won’t!” Delphine’s protest sounded a bit pious, but she added, “I can’t. His gifting protects him from it. It’s worse than you. At least you’ll hear the truth when I speak it. He won’t even listen to that. He’s as drawn to me as I am to him. I mean, I never thought I’d find someone, you know? And then bam. Out of the blue like that.”

  “It is surprising, especially since you seemed so dead set on having Kahtar.”

  “Sorry about that. I think I just wanted who I thought Kahtar was.”

  “You wanted a father. Just make sure you don’t make the same mistake with your quester. Look, she’s awake! I told you she’s a night owl. See her lamp is lit? Khunbish Cotota is up.”

  “What kind of name is Khunbish?” said Delphine.

  “I don’t know. I assume it’s Mongolian.”

  “In Mongolian, Khunbish means something like not a human being,” said Delphine. “I hope you don’t call her that to her face.”

  “Yipes,” said Beth. “Everyone in the village calls her that. I thought it meant wise old woman or something.”

  “Cheese-whiz, Beth.”

  Beth scratched on the felt frame of the doorway, speaking in Russian, “Khun—uh—Cotota? It’s Beth Constantine—I mean Beth White.” It had been some time since Beth had made this trip. “I’m here for brack tea.”

  “We didn’t bring any money,” Delphine said, pointing out the obvious.

  “Oh, she doesn’t accept money. She barters. How do you feel about milking camels?”

  Delphine laughed. “I feel like you suck.”

  Cotota’s hoarse, aged voice replied in Russian, “The camels are around back.”

  BETH WONDERED WHEN the last time Cotota’s camels had been milked. Judging by the amount of milk the beasts produced, it could have been a year. The sun had risen by the time Beth and Delphine finished. They pounded lids on the buckets and stacked them inside a shed.

  “So they ferment this, right?” asked Delphine. “Man, I smell like a freaking camel now.” She’d peppered Beth with questions about camels, brack tea, the shop, and anything else that seemed to pop into her mind for the past few hours—all obviously designed to take Beth’s mind off her aching heart.

  Delphine had taken off her cloak and wore a pretty red dress beneath it. She’d rolled up her sleeves and wrecked the dress without complaint, and now camel hair and milk stains covered the fabric. “I’m glad that’s over with,” she said, delicately lifting her arms to sniff beneath them. “This might be the grossest I’ve ever smelled, and that’s saying something.”

  “The bad news is that isn’t the worse part of the bargain.”

  “Oh, great. Please tell me we don’t have to service an outhouse.”

  “This does involve a compost toilet, and cutting Cotota’s toenails. I don’t know how old she is, but the poor dear needs diamond blades on her clippers.”

  Delphine grinned. “I’m never going to forgive you this.”

  “Liar,” said Beth, linking her arm through Delphine’s. “You also have to enthuse over her butter tea, which might be the worst part.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “Maybe not for you, but I can’t lie. It’s made with brack tea.”

  “This just gets better and better,” said Delphine. She retreated as Beth headed for the compost toilet. “What is that sludge dripping out of that thing?”

  “What do you think? We’re going to have to clean that for her. The poor thing needs help.”

  “Fine,” said Delphine. “Where does she keep a shovel and wheelbarrow?”

  A BOWL OF icy cold water sat on a table outside Khunbish Cotota’s front door.

  “For all the good this will do,” said Delphine. They washed anyway and walked into the ger together. The teapot sat on the table beside three steaming cups of tea. Beth bowed to the tiny woman, who barely came up to Delphine’s breast.

  Cotota returned the bow and sat on a stool, asking them to tea in Russian.

  Delphine flashed her dimples. “Cotota, I’m honored to meet you. I’m Delphine Green.”

  Cotota ignored pleasantries and verbally reviewed the camel milking process, quizzing them on procedure and bucket placement in the shed.

  “Have you ever noticed how no one does things as well as you’d do yourself?” asked Delphine. “If you check and we did anything wrong, next time we’re here I’ll shovel up your Bactrian camel dung too.”

  Cotota laughed and waved her hand at Delphine as though telling her to go on.

  Beth smiled as she watched the woman with a broad freckled face and grayish white hair flutter around her hut like a tiny bird. In the two years she’d known the woman, she’d never once seen her smile. She had bricks of brack tea stacked on a far table, and absolutely nothing ornamental inside the ger. Everything looked functional; a few dishes were stacked on a shelf, a glass jar of grain and pitcher of water sat on the sideboard, and a pallet to sleep on rested on the floor. Spilled salt coated the floor by the front doorway like a coarse white welcome mat.

  “Are you k
eeping something evil out of your ger with that salt, Cotota?” asked Delphine in a conversational tone. The old woman lifted her hands toward the heavens as though imploring and shivered.

  Beth patted her knee and Cotota looked at her. Her eyes widened and she backed away.

  “Your eyes,” said Delphine.

  “I’m sorry,” said Beth. “Something bad happened to me and it affected my eyes.”

  Cotota scooted the chair further away, but leaned forward in her chair and pointed at her own face, widening her own eyes with effort. Wind and time had left her face little more than age spots and wrinkles. She pointed at her eyes and strained to open them wide.

  Delphine gasped.

  Cotota said, “Something bad happened to me too, a very long time ago. I thought maybe Morning Star no longer troubled the women of the world.”

  “Oh, dear sweet Lord,” said Beth, sliding off her chair to sit on the floor as any regained strength drained from her. The room spun around her at the mention of Morning Star’s dreaded name. Worse than that, Cotota’s eyes, hidden in the wrinkles of her face, were the exact same steely eyes that Kahtar had first brought to Beth’s life.

  “Oh, ilu,” whispered Delphine, placing her hand over her mouth. “Beth, do you know who she is?”

  Shaking her head Beth said, “How many of us are there? How many women have been used like that—I mean, Delphine, your eyes are still your own!”

  “It involves heart, Beth. Tartarus wouldn’t share his heart with me. Thank God. I have enough problems without living forever.”

  “Artarus?” said Cotota. “Tartarus? Artarus?”

  “Oh no!” said Beth, covering her mouth with both hands. “She knows him!”

  “Do you know Kahtar too?” asked Delphine. “Attar?”

  “Attar!” said Cotota, slipping into an ancient dialect that Beth barely understood as she beamed. Cotota put her hands over her heart. “My Attar. Kidnapped by a horrible woman.”