Shades of Avalon

by Carol Oates

  John ran his fingers through his messy hair, I suspected not for the first time today.

  “Okay, what happens now?” he demanded with a strained jaw.

  I narrowed my eyes. Tension rolled off him, and he didn’t offer us a seat or drink. On the other hand, this wasn’t a social visit, and John didn’t appear to be falling apart. Triona had dragged him back into our world, but he looked as if he was much better prepared to face it this time round.

  Triona shrugged her jacket—John’s jacket—off and hung it over the back of one of the chairs around the table. Amanda slipped her left hand into mine and wrapped the other around my bicep. The hard metal of her engagement and wedding rings gave me comfort, reminding me that when all this was over, we still had a life together to cherish. I smiled down at her, feeling the usual flutter in the pit of my stomach. A pang of guilt swiftly pressed it down once more. I couldn’t say the same for Triona and Caleb yet.

  Triona approached John warily but with her shoulders rolled back. Emma stood off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest, observing the proceedings with wariness and pursed lips.

  “I’m sorry,” Triona whispered, fixing him with a direct gaze. I wasn’t entirely convinced the rest of us were meant to hear.

  “For taking everything or for giving it back.” His hands curled into fists by his side, an act of frustration.

  “Taking what? What are you talking about?” Emma questioned, dropping her arms by her side. However she didn’t give either of them an opportunity to respond before she turned her interrogations on me. “What is he talking about, and what do you have to do with it?”

  “Can you give us a moment?” Amanda suggested to her, peering around my chest.

  “I don’t think so.” Emma grimaced. Her eyebrows arched sharply.

  I turned my attention back to Triona in time to see her reach for John’s hand. He flinched away, drawing just out of range.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you. The opposite.”

  “You manipulated my memories. You violated my mind. The one thing I asked you not to do. You had no right.” His voice rose in volume as he spoke.

  “You also said you didn’t want to remember.”

  John shook his head, dismissing her excuse. “I say a lot of stupid shit that I don’t mean.” He turned from her, flattening his palms against the breakfast bar and lowering his head.

  “Perhaps this isn’t a good time to discuss everything.” Amanda’s eyes flickered in the direction of Emma.

  Emma scowled at her and mirrored John’s stance at the end of the counter, dropping her head to catch a glimpse of his down turned face. “First you disappear up north for months and won’t take my calls. When I finally get to see you, you won’t talk to me about these messed up memory lapses. Then she shows up, and you’re trying to ship me off to France again. I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in, Johnny. I don’t care. You are the only family I have, and I’ll be damned if I’m staying out of this.”

  John twisted his head to meet his sister’s eyes with both fear and admiration in his expression. A combination I empathized with all too well. He slid his hand over hers and squeezed lightly.

  “As lovely as this family moment is,” I began, “both of you will be staying out of this.”

  “Ben,” Triona said. I knew her tone, and whatever came after would be an effort to placate me.

  “No,” I stopped her before she could get going. “I don’t know what you’ve done here, but these two are human. They have no place in our business.”

  Amanda immediately pulled away. “And there it is again,” she said dryly.

  John stood up straight and tilted his head back to the ceiling. “Oh boy.”

  “Human.” Emma’s jaw slackened. “As opposed to?”

  “There’s what again? What did I say?” I asked Amanda.

  She rolled her eyes and scowled, and I knew I was in trouble. “It’s not what you said, Ben. Well, it is really, but it’s also how you said it and that you keep saying it at every possible opportunity.”

  I hated when Amanda did this. I knew it didn’t matter what I added next. Anything that came out of my mouth would be wrong in her eyes. Maybe it was something to do with my age, or the fact I was a guy, but an angry female had the ability to scare all the blood from my brain. After that I always lost the ability to hone in on the right words.

  “Can we get back to humans having no place in your business?” Emma piped in.

  “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted to avoid, Ben?” Triona added. “Questions you don’t want to answer.”

  “It was a figure of speech,” John offered as way of explanation to Emma.

  She huffed, incredulous. “Really? I would have believed that if it wasn’t for all the other weird crap going on around here. I’m not stupid.”

  “John, is there somewhere we can have a moment?” I said, nodding to Amanda.

  “My house is your house.” John pointed up the stairs. “Apparently,” he added in a flat tone.

  We moved our conversation into one of the rooms upstairs, a rectangular dining room with similar decor to the entrance hallway. Amanda paced around an art deco table and paused in front of a French renaissance, gold leaf mirror hung over a long sideboard and tilted her head to the side. Either she was assessing John’s eclectic taste or ignoring me. Likely a little of both.

  When she moved on and ran her hand over the back of one of the high back chairs, it seemed she didn’t intend to speak first, so I did.

  “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

  Amanda closed her eyes briefly and then looked at me. “You and humans, Ben. Why don’t you tell me what that’s about? You make it sound like being human is some kind of affliction.”

  “Are you saying it doesn’t complicate things in our world?” I asked, surprised at the root of her concern.

  “Our world? Which world do you mean—Guardian, or human, or are both not the same for you?”

  “Guardian.”

  “When did it become our world? Have you forgotten I’m human and half your genetic code is human too? What about Lewis and Carmel? Have you any idea how disrespectful you sound?” she demanded, moving around the table when I approached her.

  Apparently, she planned to use the table as a barrier.

  It wasn’t as if I’d said anything that wasn’t true. “Lewis and Carmel have nothing to do with this.”

  She rolled her eyes again, exasperated. “They have everything to do with this. They raised you. How much more in your business do you think someone can get? Do you think I should stay out of this too?”

  “You’re twisting my words. Besides, you aren’t exactly human anymore.”

  Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. Amanda stared at me in shock, and I knew I’d said the wrong thing again. I only meant that she had changed after Tír na nÓg.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry you said it or sorry that’s how you see humans now?”

  I wanted to shut up. I really did. Regardless, my mouth kept moving independently of my brain. “I can’t help how I feel—”

  “Can you hear yourself, Ben?” Deep rose flushed across her cheeks, and her eyes glazed over with anger. Her sweet flower scent wafted through the room, drawing me closer to her. I presumed any advance would be unwelcome. “You sound just like them—like Zeal and every other corrupt member of the Council. Like you think you’re better than humans.”

  Her accusation slapped me in the chest, and I stepped back, appalled Amanda would compare me to the man who pushed a metal blade through her body. My heart seized inside my chest at the idea, causing physical pain. I lifted my hand and pressed it to my breastbone, rubbing the heel of my hand over the stinging ache.

  She didn’t understand. Perhaps my point wasn’t coming across as I meant it to. Against my better judgment, I tried again. “Do you have any idea what they would do to us if we were exposed?”

  “By ‘they’ you
mean humans?”

  “Haven’t you seen any science fiction or fantasy movie ever? Humans don’t take kindly to anything they don’t understand. That much hasn’t changed since Guardians were banished underground.”

  “I get that.” Amanda sighed, giving in a bit. “I get that you’re worried, but where does that leave us? At war, that’s where—each side thinking they have some inherent right to be on top and neither better for it. You need to get this out of your system. You can’t fight a battle on two fronts and expect to come out unscathed. We have enough on our plate with Zeal. Please don’t become what you hate most so you can destroy it. You’re better than that.”

  She walked to the end of the table near the door, and I followed her lead, reaching out to her. Amanda halted as though she’d slammed into a brick wall and held her hands up defensively. She frowned, her eyebrows pulling down. I let my hands fall to my side, and the tightness in my chest intensified at her rejection.

  “You should take a walk,” she suggested, unwilling to meet my eyes.

  With that, Amanda hurried from the room. I stood there listening to her brisk footfalls down the stairs, desperate to follow her but also wanting to give her the space she asked for. The conflicting desires tore at my insides, twisting my stomach into knots.

  I relented with a brooding grunt and slunk from the house.

  Chapter 7

  Enemy Mine

  I PAUSED OUTSIDE, looking up and down the street. I wasn’t familiar with the area. Going back to the hotel came to mind first, but felt foolish, like running away. I just wanted to give Amanda a little space, however reluctant I was to leave her side. So I took her advice and began walking.

  She had to know her concern about me becoming like Zeal or even Lucien, the Council leader who tried to kill Triona before she ripped his heart out, was way off. Maybe I’d been over-zealous recently…okay, there was no maybe about it, but my points were valid. My concerns about exposure and keeping the humans already in our lives protected from the lingering dangers of the Guardian world were real. I was right, but Amanda was right too.

  I got about twenty paces down the street before I changed my mind and turned in the other direction.

  “Hey, you!”

  I swung around to see Emma jogging down the street after me, still wrapping a gauzy scarf around her neck. The weather had warmed, but dark gray clouds closed in overheard and threatened rain. Emma wore a waterproof jacket that came down past her hips and gave the impression she had been washed in glistening black oil. She caught up with me and huffed out a couple of rushed breathes.

  “You should go back to the house,” I told her firmly. “You shouldn’t be out walking alone right now.”

  Emma scrunched her nose. “I’m not alone. Besides, we’ll be back before they notice I’m missing.”

  I hummed, unsure, weighing up the options. If I sent her back, she would be one more person for Triona to look out for, although I suspected John could look after himself. I had to think of Amanda. Emma would be safe with me.

  “I have no idea where I’m going,” I said with a casual shrug and began walking again.

  “Don’t worry,” she replied. “I’ll take care of you.”

  I chuckled at the irony.

  “I’ll have you know, I placed at the national level in archery for my age two years running before I stopped competing. John used to say I could shoot an arrow before I could hold spoon.”

  I held my hands up and smiled. “I get it. You’re a bad ass with a bow. Where’s your weapon?”

  Emma scratched her temple and laughed. “You got me. I’ll just have to use brute force.”

  “Why did you stop competing?”

  “It didn’t seem so important when my brother started acting weird.”

  “Weird in what way?” I asked.

  She wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips as though smelling something foul. “Like I said earlier, he was staying up north and wouldn’t take my calls. I found out he’d taken up sword training again—”

  “Sword training?” I cut in before she could continue.

  “Your eyes got huge just then.” She dropped her hand, and I made an effort to control my surprised expression.

  “I don’t like swords much. What’s with all the old world weapons? Are the British expecting an invasion?”

  “Old family tradition. So, your turn,” Emma said matter-of-factly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing here? You show me yours, and I show you mine.”

  I did a double take and snorted a laugh at this pocket-sized girl’s audacity. Her expression of innocence didn’t even flinch. As much as I hated the idea, I accepted she would eventually learn the whole truth now that John’s memories had been restored. He’d already said too much in front of her—not to mention my woeful choice of words—and now she wouldn’t give up. First, I needed some answers.

  “How old are you, Emma?”

  “I’m almost seventeen.” She hesitated a moment. “I’m guessing not much younger than you.”

  “I’m almost twenty,” I said and laughed because the “almost” seemed crucial all of a sudden, like a kid adding the half year onto their age.

  “And you’re married, right? That girl—Amanda.”

  I nodded. Her mouth wrinkled up and distorted off to the side as she considered the information. What made perfect sense to Amanda and me didn’t necessarily appear rational to others. We saw no point in waiting to marry.

  The area was mostly residential, many of the houses similar to John’s. By the number of doorbells and intercoms, I presumed a number of them were divided into apartments.

  “Your brother has quite the stuffed wallet.” It was more an observational prompt than a question.

  “It was our parents’ money, and it’ll be mine too, or it will be at eighteen. Johnny had a—” she hummed and sighed, groping for the correct word “—difficult relationship with our dad. When our folks died—”

  “A car accident,” I interjected.

  Her head gave a quick bob in affirmation.

  “Ours too,” I said, although it wasn’t an accident. It was an assassination. Emma didn’t need to know that. She needed to trust me and believe we had common ground.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered sadly.

  “Me too…for your parents, I mean.”

  “Anyway,” she continued, “John wanted to do things his own way. He’s smart, really smart, but he didn’t want to be one of those guys who fell back on Daddy’s money. He wanted to prove something to himself. Once he did that, he got over his aversion to family money.”

  “Why would he keep the extent of his wealth a secret?”

  “He must have had a reason.”

  I scraped my fingers across my scalp, wondering what it might be.

  We had reached the park, and I followed Emma in relative silence through a shaded walkway past sports fields and budding flower beds. A building with arched walls housed a gallery and coffee shop where staff were closing up for the day. Along the promenade, I studied the colorful murals depicting the area in Victorian times. There was a deep sense of history in the area. Triona must have loved London in her time here. Our parents had met in this city when they were teenagers. It bothered me I had no idea where. Maybe it happened in this park.

  Eventually flowerbeds and brick gave way to denser wooded areas speckled with small areas of grass and hidden patches of flowers just waiting for a hint of spring to burst into color. Here and there, some had grown tired of waiting, and flashes of purple, white, and yellow peeped through the green.

  I sent a text to Amanda, telling her Emma was with me and we’d be back soon. I didn’t want her to worry.

  “The park will be closing soon,” Emma said once I put my phone away.

  “And you want answers too?”

  Emma sucked in a deep breath and released a nervous chuckle. She ran a finger under her eye, smudging black makeup to the side. “I’m
not so sure I want them. I need them. I’ll drive myself crazy otherwise.” She walked a straight line beside me, heel to toe.

  We passed fewer people here, but I lowered my voice regardless. “Do you believe in magic?”

  Her eyes widened. “Do you mean Vegas magic or Dungeons & Dragons magic?”

  I arched an eyebrow.

  “I’m with John Lennon on this one.”

  “John Lennon?”

  “The Beatles,” she exclaimed, aghast and shook her head dismissively. “Americans…”

  “I know who the Beatles are. I didn’t realize they were magicians too.” I grimaced and bumped her shoulder, earning a smile.

  She was teasing. “In answer to your question, I believe everything exists until it’s disproved.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, easing the knotted muscle there because I wasn’t sure why I wanted to tell the truth. It flew straight in the face of keeping her out of this. I compromised by telling myself I wouldn’t share everything. “Way back in time, the world consisted of two types of beings living in symbiosis, humans and magical beings called Guardians. They lived in a place legend now refers to as Atlantis.”

  I waited for a reaction. Emma hardly twitched. Her eyes stayed trained on her feet, and her red lips crushed together tightly, so I went on.

  “Time passed, and the Guardians left to explore the world. Guardians live for centuries so when they returned generations later, humans took them for invaders. A war ensued, and the human civilization rose while they drove Guardians underground. The Guardians were called Tuatha Dé Danann—”

  “I’ve read about this,” she cut in. “You’re talking about Ireland.”

  My mouth opened, but words failed me for a moment. I knew nothing about my real heritage before last summer, but it seemed Emma had read up on European legends. That would make this considerably easier.