Irin (The Last Scribe Prequels Book 1)

by R. Lee Walsh

  “Be careful,” Yuri says, staring him in the eyes. His expression is a warning. Peach is not the only one who's livid. He has some hard questions for Riley but only one purpose and he's been away from her long enough. “I hope you know what you're doing.”

  “Have I ever not? Now, go. Take care of your girl. We'll see you in a couple weeks.”

  “If not sooner.”

  “Are you really him?” Robbie asks, his dark eyes meeting Yuri's. “From the stories, I always thought you'd be bigger.”

  Yuri raises his eyebrow at Riley, then drops the illusion for a moment. Robbie visibly pales, cowering against the kitchen door.

  “Take care,” Yuri chuckles, reverting to illusion. He turns his attention back to Riley. “Next time call me first.”

  After he departs, Riley makes his way back to the office. The door is closed and he listens for a moment before working up the nerve to knock.

  “Piss off,” she barks and something hard hits the door. It sounds like a book or a shoe.

  Steeling himself to endure her wrath, he slowly pushes it open. She's sitting behind the desk, her back to him, staring at a calendar on the wall.

  “Why are you still here?” she says, turning the chair around. The swivel mechanism squeaks loudly. “Don't you have other lives to ruin?”

  “Probably,” he nods, suppressing a smile. God only knows why he loves this infuriating Irin woman.

  “You could have told me,” she says, staring at his face. Riley's the most aggravating creature she's ever encountered and does nothing but drive her crazy. He's also her best friend. This last stunt is so insane that even she has to admit it was brilliant. Not that she'll ever tell him that.

  “Boring,” he mutters, taking a seat on the desk, the door falling closed behind him. “Plus, from what I hear about Yuri's girl, we're going to need all the help we can get. Word is, Sam's already got his own army mobilized to intercept her.”

  Scowling, Peach lays her head on the desk. Just the mention of that name makes her feel sick. “Great. That's all I needed to hear.”

  “Tell me the truth. Are you alright?” he asks. “We never had a chance to talk about what happened in Portland.”

  “Mmhmmph,” she mumbles into the desk listening to Raul's car pull into the lot. “I'm fine. Hey, let my cook in, will ya?”

  Rising from the desk, he reaches for the doorknob, too late to avoid touching the onyx symbols. An agonizing surge of power slams through him, rendering him immobile.

  He knew he should have waited before giving her that box.

  Rising from her seat as he stands completely helpless at the door, Peach rounds the desk and stands behind him. “You know I love you, Riley, but the next time you decide to go all superhero and mess with my head at the same time, I'll tell Yuri about Adam. Your son.”

  The cook banging on the back door breaks the spell and Riley crumples to the floor. His blood thunders through his veins and he stares up at her in shock. She squats down next to him. “Yeah, I knew. That makes me the all-time reigning champion, don't you think?”

  Unable to form words, Riley simply blinks.

  “Thought so.” She stands, then reaches down to pull him up. Taking her hand, his strength returns as the cook beats even louder on the back door. Not releasing his hand, she inclines her ear toward him. “You know I'll have to hear the words or it's not official,” she says.

  He feels sick to his stomach. “Fine,” he huffs, refusing to let her to see his fear. She raises an eyebrow and he rolls his eyes. “You win.”

  “And?”

  “And you are the all-time reigning champion.”

  Satisfied, she goes to let Raul in herself, then returns, shutting the office door. He watches as she returns to her seat behind the desk, then resumes staring at the calendar.

  A silence weighted with unspoken accusations makes it hard for him to breathe. He clears his throat and takes a seat across from her.

  “How long?” he asks, staring at her profile.

  She closes her eyes but doesn't respond, then seems to deflate before his eyes. He feels an agonizing pain in his chest when he realizes the pain he must have caused her.

  “If you're asking how long I knew, then the answer is always.”

  Wide-eyed, he stares at her. “How?”

  “Yuri sent me to find you when that whole fiasco in Asia was heating up. I knew you'd still be in Ireland while the famine was going on. So I went. And I saw.” She turns to look at him, her eyes radiant with a terrible kind of longing--the kind reserved for those denied the only thing they ever wanted. “I can see why you loved her,” she whispers. “She truly was something special.”

  Not trusting himself to speak, Riley merely bows his head. Claire died in childbirth and his son was left in an orphanage. He watched him from afar, but never approached him. In truth, Riley fully expected him to become a monster. Instead, he grew to be a fine man and a decorated soldier.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I was the nurse at her side when she died. I even picked his family for you,” Peach continues, and at that he looks up at her again. “They were good people and they raised him well. But I expect you know that by now.”

  He opens his mouth to speak but she shakes her head.

  “I know what you're going to say, but love covers a multitude of sins, right? And as far as I know, you only had the one. How could I not do everything in my power to take care of the one thing you risked everything for?”

  “Peach, I--”

  “Don't,” she interrupts, her eyes turning cold. “I know you love me, but that's not enough, is it? You think I don't feel those same longings? That a part of me doesn't scream at the unfairness of it all every time I see a newborn child? I did what I did because I can't lose you and one of us should have what they want.”

  Stunned, Riley didn't think he could feel any lower, but he does. “Why didn't you ever say anything?”

  She turns to look toward the tiny office window. “Don't think I didn't want to. Like every time you pulled some crazy stunt. I guess what I really wanted was for you to tell me--to know I at least had your trust.”

  “So you could carry the guilt or watch me burn for eternity?” he scoffs. “I would never willingly put you in that position.”

  “I would never betray you,” she says, then turns to look at him. “And I'll kill anyone who does.”

  They stare at each other for a long moment, reading one another's thoughts. For now, Adam remains hidden in the safest place for him, living as a simple farmer. If all goes well and they survive the battle that looms on the horizon, this girl they've all been waiting for could possibly change things not only for this planet, but possibly for the Irin. There's a slim chance they could all have what they want.

  There's a tentative knock on the office door, then Raul peeks his head in. His eyes widen at Riley, but he quickly averts his gaze. “Hey boss, sorry to disturb, but it's almost four. Time to open the doors.”

  “Be right there,” she replies.

  When the door closes again, she stands and Riley slowly rises with her.

  “No rest for the wicked,” she sighs.

  “Right. So I guess I'll see you later. Want me to pick you up after work?”

  “Not so fast, slick. The way I figure it, Manny's got his hands full so I'm short a security guard.”

  “You want me to sit around here all night watching you work?”

  “Don't be silly. You'll sit outside with the bikes. Shift starts at nine and ends at six a.m.”

  She walks over to open the office door but is engulfed from behind by his arms.

  “Thank you,” he whispers in her ear, words he's never said to her before.

  Irin rarely show emotion and in the last twenty four hours, she's been on the receiving end of more than one hug. Either Yuri and Riley are really worried about her or something has definitely changed in all of them.

  “Let's just hope Yuri's girl is worth all this,” she says, nudgin
g him off her. Something hard pokes her in the shoulder.

  “Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” Riley says, taking a set of keys from his shirt pocket. “Yuri said to give you these in case of emergency.”

  “Ah,” she grins, snatching them from his fingers. “Black beauty. The 67 Charger.”

  “What? No, no, no. Maybe I should just hold on to those,” Riley scowls, reaching to take them back.

  “Dream on,” Peach says, shoving them in her pocket. “Tell you what, though,” she continues, opening the door. “Meet me out front day after Easter, and I'll race you back to Portland.”

  About the Author

  R. Lee Walsh is an artist, author and proud mother of two beautiful and talented daughters as well as the caretaker for a 96 year old grandfather who battles with advanced Alzheimer’s, not to mention two lazy but adorable dogs, a kamikaze cat and a reclusive hamster named Wink.

  Proving that truth is stranger than fiction, she has written hundreds of true stories about her unusual life experiences and developed a popular line of inspirational greeting cards, as well as being a writing coach and chief Morale Officer at Author Salon, a Project Development and Network site for aspiring authors.

  Questions? Comments? You can visit her websites at www.thelastscribe.com, www.rachel-walsh.com or www.thebutterflypoem.org.

  Read on for an excerpt from the next novella in The Last Scribe Series:

  Scepter

  A Last Scribe Novella

  R.Lee Walsh

  “I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...

  In life after life, in age after age, forever.

  My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,

  That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,

  In life after life, in age after age, forever.”

  From Unending Love by Rabindranath Tagore

  Before

  The first sound I heard on earth was birdsong. With one sacred note, the entire universe held its breath, and even as I wept in awe of such beauty and wonder I understood that with every new beginning an end must also come.

  My people, the Irin, delighted in this glorious new world. We marveled at the seemingly endless species of fauna and flora, enchanted by the vast array of creatures that flourished in this perfect macrocosm.

  When man was formed from the dust we were captivated. So like us and yet so very different. As immortal beings not limited to fragile flesh and bone, we are impervious to aging, illness and mortal injury. But these finite creatures called humans possessed what no Irin ever had--the power to create with their minds, their hands, even their own bodies. Soon, two became three and the population of both man and beast multiplied, gradually expanding to inhabit their wondrous new home.

  It was my own brother who led the First War. If we could not have creative power on our own, he reasoned, then we would dominate mankind and take it by force. Through the use of enchantments and forbidden magic, two hundred Irin betrayed their brethren, taking for themselves human wives. Unfortunately, the offspring of these forbidden unions were monsters.

  Plagued by aberrant deformities and supernatural strength, many grew to three, even seven times human size. The only universal trait they shared was an insatiable appetite. Cannibals from birth, they laid waste to everything living, including the animals. When mankind itself was threatened with extinction, as leader of the Irin I had no choice but to declare war against my own kind.

  The traitors were quickly defeated and every last abomination they spawned was slaughtered. My brother and a handful of his followers escaped, fleeing from the devastation they'd wrought like the worthless cowards they are. Dividing the earth into territories of their own, they continue to wreak havoc by cloaking their activities as human atrocities. Calling themselves Powers, or the Shachath, behind every act of supreme violence, whether it be racial, social, religious or political, a specific Power can be found.

  When the earth was finally cleansed of their vile offspring, a truce was signed between man and the Irin to prevent future abominations. Now educated from birth, humans trained their children to avoid the Irin and any sign of corruption, human or animal, was immediately reported. In return, the Irin agreed to patrol the earth, eliminating further threats and protecting the natural order. Those who trespass against the treaty are exterminated without mercy. No exceptions.

  In time, mankind once again flourished, but the memories of Before were never forgotten. The horror stories of bloodthirsty creatures like vampires, werewolves and man eating giants passed down through generations are derived from these all too real monsters.

  Faced with eternal fire for their crimes, some traitors begged forgiveness, pleading to return to our kind. Those who were deemed truly repentant were spared eternal fire, but stripped of their supernatural powers. Thereinafter called Sheva, which in our language means “empty,” they are allowed to roam the earth as long as they remain undetected and don't interfere with the natural order. Marked as traitors and scorned by their Irin brethren, a handful have nevertheless proven their loyalty by acting as informers. They secretly supply information to the Irin about possible treaty infractions and an elite few have even infiltrated the Powers.

  In 363 C.E. The Council of Laodicea convened in Phrygia Pacatiana, now known as Turkey. Armed with a long forgotten prophecy and information that could potentially threaten the future of mankind, a joint session with the Irin was held. It was agreed that certain information regarding the original man and a secret passed down through his bloodline should be concealed. Thereinafter, all books, records and any form of communication that contained any reference to this knowledge were declared heretical and destroyed. Laws were enacted to ensure the secret would remain hidden until the appointed time.

  As the prophecy and the Irin are fundamentally linked, the Irin also agreed to alter their appearance, essentially becoming invisible. While still ever present, we are easily overlooked and immediately forgotten. Walk down any street in the world and you will pass at least one Irin. Depending on the threat or situation, sometimes many.

  As the leader of the Irin, called Scepter, my job is to ensure the survival of mankind and especially the original bloodline. Nearly seven thousand years and three hundred sixty four generations have passed since the First War and on a hot August day eighteen years ago, the prophesied last descendant of the first generation finally arrived.

  After

  Her first breath came from my own lips. Gray, lifeless and utterly still, her premature birth was a surprise. Her mother, Elizabeth, lay unconscious but alive, her lifeblood spattered on the linoleum hospital floor. The attending doctor called the baby's time of death as 11:59 p.m.

  Scores of Irin stood in attendance and for one horrifying minute the entire world fell silent. Mortified, I stared down at the tiny flaccid hands that held the promise of the future and the loss was incomprehensible. Three hundred sixty four generations and I'd never lost a descendant. It had to be a mistake. Frantic, I grasped her fragile face in my hands and did what no Irin had ever done.

  I willed her my life.

  At 12:00 a.m., her first heartbeat reverberated through the room like a sonic boom, startling the world back into motion. In less than a minute she was waving her arms, her skin turning a mottled purple and pink.

  Her first sound was a piercing shriek that unleashed a deafening Irin cheer. The doctor and nurses scrambled to get her vitals and clear her airways, laughing and telling each other it was a miracle. Riley, my closest friend and second in command, came up and stood by my side. We both watched in silence as she flailed and kicked, her precious newborn fingers splaying then curling repeatedly.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Riley muttered. “You alright?”

  “I don't know,” I replied honestly, watching the nurse wrap her in a white cotton blanket. My impulsive action, while arguably defensible, had interfered with the natural order. By sharing my life-force, we were linked togeth
er, our hearts beating as one. From that moment on my entire existence depended on one fragile human.

  Because if she dies, I die with her.