The Way

by Mary E. Twomey

  Elle did not lower her hands, but took his distraction as an opportunity to throw out a jab to his stomach, which missed completely. “I’m here. I’m on the beam. I’m in the fight.”

  “Is that a fact?” It was the second time he’d got a light jab to her chin. With accuracy akin to his sister’s, he was always careful not to hurt her or leave any marks. Usually his fist started out balled up, but by the time it reached her pretty face, it ended up a light slap. Baird was adamant that hand-to-hand combat with her should only happen on the beam.

  “Yeah. I’m just a little nervous. That’s all.”

  “Then you’re not on the beam, Elle. You’re at the testing.” He swung for her face, but she shifted backward to miss the punch by centimeters. “One step at a time. Right now, you’re just fighting me. No one else. Only me.”

  Elle lifted her leg to kick his thigh, but he pushed her knee down before it was able to gain any real force. Baird smirked. “Come on, now. It’s your big chance. Fighting with each other’s the thing we do best.” He stilled his attack so she could catch up. “Your left elbow’s about two centimeters too low to be useful for anything other than fanning me. Come to think of it, it is getting a little warm down here. Never mind. You can keep doing it like that. Feels nice,” he teased.

  “How does this feel?” She steamed at his correction. Elle tried to throw him off balance with a swift uppercut, but Baird grabbed onto her fist and held it in his much larger hand. Her left arm cut the air to jab him in the jaw, but he caught that as well.

  “Relaxing. It feels like you’re blowing a breeze at me. I am pretty hot.”

  “You’re the only one who thinks so.”

  “Is that why I pull in more tips tending bar than you do all day? Pity because I’m so ugly? Wow. I always thought it was because the Fems all wish they could have me.” He held tight to her fists until Elle conceded defeat.

  “Fine. You win.”

  “Thanks for putting me out of my misery.”

  “Shut up. I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Elle complained. Baird released her fists and the two hopped down in step.

  On any other day, there may have been sexual tension that produced witty banter, but Elle was quiet. It really dawned on her the previous night what she was about to get herself into. This was the plan the whole time, but it wasn’t until now that her flawless smile began to crack under the pressure.

  “You’re not focused, Elle. There’s no point in practicing if you’re not going to keep your head in it,” Baird lectured disapprovingly.

  “Sorry. Let’s go again.”

  They stepped back up on the beam together and faced each other. It took only twenty more seconds before he landed another touch on her cheek.

  Groaning loudly, she cast her useless fists down to her sides in defeat. The stale air of the storm cellar felt as though it would choke her if she stayed down there much longer. Never before had she felt the creeping fear of claustrophobia – especially in a place that was not all that small. The stress of her fate felt heavy on her chest as she struggled not to hyperventilate.

  “I’m gonna flunk out of the first round, aren’t I?” Elle tried to keep the panic out of her voice.

  Baird softened. He knew that she was not built for this much pressure. No one short of he and his sister were, but Elle fought to keep up with them all the same.

  “If you were going up against me, yes. But you won’t be. You’ll be up against other A-blood types who hope they’re the Light. You’ve actually fought with the real Light hundreds of times. There’s no way that you won’t make it to round two.” He’d saved his most reassuring speech for that morning and hoped she wouldn’t need more than that.

  Elle nodded, her breathing beginning to slow. She did not look entirely convinced, but he didn’t see a point in carrying on about it.

  Baird stepped down and stared at her hesitantly. With her still on the beam, they were at eye level. Her concern bore deep into him, threatening to weaken his cold demeanor that usually served him well. Her confident smile had no place in the room anymore, and he found that he missed its reassuring presence.

  He knew what she needed, but was reluctant to give it to her. Each time he held her, it only served to soothe her aching heart for the exact measure of time that his arms wrapped around her body. After the release, she was even more addicted to the feeling than before, her eyes imploring him for another embrace and another. He did not want to set a precedent as a hugger or a source of comfort for her. They were already too flirtatious, given the gravity of their lives.

  His sister would be leaving at some point to fight the greatest battle of the decade single-handedly. He was charged with running a business that only grew more difficult to handle. Elle was going to be tested in ways they could only imagine. His chest tightened as he imagined someone striking out at Elle with the intention to hurt her.

  “Baird?” she whispered, fear creeping into her voice and destroying her poise. She took half a step closer to him and lifted her hand to touch his cheek.

  Before she could make contact, Baird reached up and caught her hand, holding her by the wrist. He stared into her eyes, willing sense to reach his brain so he did not fall prey to the emotions the beautiful blonde emanated. “No. You deserve more.”

  Elle’s eyes sharpened with the same determination that kept her from wilting amongst the more polished Femreaux. “I deserve to get what I want.”

  Knowing his fearlessness did not extend to relationships, Elle sucked in the desire to be loved and tucked it away with her increasing libido.

  

  The leaves were turned to outlandish shades of contrasting colors. As handfuls of foliage fell around them on their walk to the diner, the four did their best to pull their minds out of their preoccupations and enjoy the scenery.

  Blue and Grettel held both of Elle’s hands, for Baird would not step up and be what she needed. Blue clutched her book in her other hand possessively. She was on chapter eight now, and was determined to comprehend the entire book as quickly as she could devour it. She feared that Baird would soon come up with a valid reason to keep her from diverting her attention from the predator and Elle to Geometry.

  As they walked, Blue began to see the world in angles that desperately needed bisecting. She did not possess the tools the book demanded, but she could draw lines and circles without a compass or a protractor and still get the accuracy described in the book. She was always excited to learn a new bit of knowledge that could prove to be useful in her preparation for fighting the unknown. She voiced to Baird that she was grateful it was a Geometry book that she found and not something tedious.

  Groaning, Baird trudged ahead of them.

  “He’s downright cheerful this morning,” Blue muttered indignantly.

  Grettel’s small voice spoke from Elle’s other side. “I hope you get help out on the floor soon. I don’t know how you’re going to handle it tonight, go to the testing and still get enough rest for your shift tomorrow.”

  “Don’t you know?” Elle grinned. “I’m amazing.”

  When they reached the diner, Baird pulled out several large packages from the kitchen that Joe put there for them. They contained canvas and poles that were tied in a bundle. There were also many more tables and chairs littering the dining area that were now supposed to be put up outside. Another box stored decorations in the form of fancy lights strung together.

  As usual, Baird took charge. “You two work on setting up inside for lunch. Grettel, get the kitchen going, and Elle can do the dining area.” He pursed his lips as he tried to make sense of the sheet of directions that was packed inside one of the boxes. “Blue, help me set this up.”

  Elle set the chairs down from the tables, wiping everything off and putting out the baskets of condiments and napkins. When Grettel had bouts of downtime in between thawing things in the oven or waiting for water to boil, she sat and helped Elle roll the silverware inside napkins. The two girls talked a
bout unimportant things as they sat together. Elle found that it was the inconsequential chatter she valued most in providing a salve for her nerves. If Grettel could still be normal around her, then perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as she was anticipating.

  When Blue and Baird came in from outside, it was nearly time to open.

  “How’s it look?” Elle asked, setting the massive pile of finished silverware aside.

  “Go see for yourself.” Baird wiped his brow as he leaned against the countertop to rest a moment before going into cooking mode. Blue, also sweating from the heat of the day, got him a glass of water, which he took unhappily.

  “You look tired,” she commented with pity in her eyes as she leaned over to look at him more closely. “Maybe you should lie down.”

  “Oh, shut up,” he snapped, bringing out a silly grin in his sister. He was the only one she gloated to about her superior…everything. He was the only one who seemed to think he could fairly compete with her.

  The girls came back in with awed expressions. “It’s the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to this diner!” Elle exclaimed, a fresh spring in her step. “I love the taller tables and chairs. They look so fancy!”

  Grettel’s gushing was not as loud, but it was just as genuine. “I love the lights. I can’t wait to see them twinkling tonight. Whose idea was it to hang them like that? I thought they’d just be along the edges of the tent, but they’re covering the whole roof of the canvas. I love it!” She clapped her hands together under her chin as her brown eyes danced with the romance of happiness.

  It was the pick-me-up the four needed. Elle flirted with the customers with new playfulness, and Grettel actually hummed under her breath as she cooked with Baird in the kitchen.

  Blue even caught her brother purposefully grazing his hand across Elle’s smiling cheek when he thought no one was around. She thought Elle might jump forward and finally kiss him, but was disappointed that her brother dropped his hand and turned to chop up chunks of molded lamb to throw into the sickeningly thick mint and radish stew. Of all the things they were forced to prepare for, it seemed her brother would never be ready for Elle.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lucinda

  Age of Peace Law 2, Subset 1a

  A Wayward attacking a Vemreaux forfeits his right to a trial by jury and is subject to the swiftest punishment under the law.

  Daniel eyed the novel Beth was clutching in her hand as she spoke. “I can’t believe you love that book so much,” he interrupted. “It’s so sappy.”

  “What? Donald Smith’s novel was much better received than your bizarre play. Come on, Daniel. I’ll read the narration and Lucinda’s parts, and you read Francis.”

  Blue’s pen was poised, but she absolutely refused to ask them a third time what they were going to order. Daniel, Beth, Brown Scarf and Purple Scarf took up residence at a table in the center of the diner, and for the past half hour, had ordered only drinks.

  “Buy me a shot?” Daniel raised an eyebrow to Beth.

  “Fine,” she sighed, clicking her fingers to assure the waitress was paying attention. Blue willed herself not to reach out and crush the small bones. That would definitely not be laying low. Luckily, the crowd was thinning, transitioning between the lunch and dinner rushes. “We’ll have another round, then.” Beth held up the book between them and began to read, projecting her voice so it carried throughout the diner. “Francis David Vemreaux in all of his glorious might journeyed as far from the greedy Juan Ponce de Leon as his illustrious legs would carry him. The first community he came across was located in Richmond, Virginia.”

  Blue waited on a nearby table, keeping a curious eye, and ear, on Beth’s story as it unfolded.

  Daniel read in a sweeping, dramatic voice. “‘Kind sirs, I am a sailor who survived a shipwreck. I have wandered many sleepless nights in search of honest work so I can earn a place of respite,’ Francis said to the men who were hauling in lumber.”

  Beth jumped in, “‘What skill have you with an axe, sailor?’ One of them asked.”

  Daniel flexed his bicep, and a few onlookers whistled appreciatively. “‘Skill enough to be called woodsman instead of sailor,’ he replied.”

  The actors relished the attention and stood, quieting the commotion around them to a dull mumbling.

  Beth batted away Daniel’s bicep. “‘If you can help us build our homes as fortresses from the harsh winters, we will no longer call you sailor nor woodsman, but friend.’

  “The people there worked hard. They took him in as one of their own, and he returned the favor of the peace-loving group by working with the men, adding his strong hands and heightened senses to their workforce. His tireless toil alongside them earned him a place of respect in the tight-knit community.

  “One particular woman in the area struck his fancy by sewing up the tears that gaped in his clothing. ‘Good sir,’ Lucinda smiled up at him, revealing eyes bluer than any water he’d ever seen. ‘This is the fourth pair of britches you’ve brought me this week. You’ll have to take more care how you swing that axe you’re so handy with.’ Her eyesight was said to be so keen that her stitching was tighter than a loom’s.”

  “Oh, I love this part!” a woman exclaimed when Blue asked her what she’d like to order. There was no point in working at the moment; everyone was being entertained by Beth and her minions.

  Daniel continued. “‘Mi’lady,’ Francis replied, ‘then what excuse shall I bring next time to gain the privilege of seeing your beauty?’”

  Blue had never been wooed before, and desperately hoped it was nothing like that in real life.

  Beth continued, clearly wishing she was the lovely subject in the book. “One look from her cerulean irises did most men in, though she did not take her advantage often. Lucinda caught his attention and never gave it back. The two began spending stolen moments by the butter churn, and he went out of his way to help her with her regular tasks. Lucinda’s cherry lips and peaceful smile tamed his warrior’s heart into that of a man who sought no greater adventure than capturing the love of a woman.

  “It was a late summer’s eve spent in the company of wildflowers and thick grass that brought Francis to the hut where the women dipped candles. Lucinda’s diligent arms did not tire, and her lips never complained that the work seemed endless. ‘I can hear you,’ she sang as she hung two candles connected by their shared wick over a line to dry. ‘Have you come for more darning, Francis? I’ll not be able to get to it until the morning.’”

  Daniel read, “His silence drew her to the door of the small work hut, where she found him on his knees with the entire village gathered behind him.” At this, Daniel tossed his chair over and threw himself onto the ground before Beth, drawing every eye. “‘No, Lucinda. I’ve come for your heart!’”

  Elle laughed aloud, earning a few annoyed looks from nearby patrons. Blue shrugged at her friend, who had given up waiting on people who obviously were happy to be hungry, so long as they were entertained.

  Beth grinned. “‘Oh, Francis!’”

  Daniel placed his hands over his heart. “‘Lucinda, my love. Make me the happiest man in the world and marry me tonight.’”

  Purple Scarf took the book from Beth’s hand and commandeered the narration. “Throwing her candles and caution to the wind, Lucinda wrapped her arms around his strong neck in the company of many excited eyes.”

  Beth’s actions followed the narrator’s commands, and she found herself sitting on Daniel’s bended knee. “‘Yes, Francis Vemreaux! Yes!’” The kiss that connected her lips to Daniel’s was sloppy and filled with makeup-laced saliva that the man did not seem to mind. “Oh, Daniel!” Beth cried. His tongue connected with hers, increasing the shared moisture to a level that made Blue gag. Her normally composed face could not hide her horror at such a crude display.

  Purple Scarf cleared his voice above the cacophony of cat-calls from other tables. He read, “She leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, causing
many women to shield their eyes to respect propriety.” At this, many Vemreaux laughed, including Beth and Daniel, who finally followed along appropriately.

  “The two married with the town’s fervent blessing, though neither she nor the village knew anything of his extended life or the blessed fount. After their marriage, he tried many times to convince her to head south with him, but she would not dare to leave the community she so loved for a journey he would not explain the importance of. They were fruitful and multiplied, and the urging from him ceased as fatherhood distracted him. The years slowly etched themselves into her smooth face while leaving her husband’s untouched. Francis and his beloved wife gave birth to their fifth and final child, each of whom was born with their B-type blood.

  “When her fortieth year came about, the woman was taken ill with a fever.”

  Beth hopped up onto the long table and laid down on it dramatically, drawing every male eye in the vicinity. She crooned, “‘Leave me, Francis!’”

  Purple scarf kept on reading, holding the book out for Daniel to catch glimpses of the part Beth had clearly committed to memory. “Her hand was thinned with sickness and heated beyond comfort.”

  Beth cried out, arching her back seductively to gain the most possible attention. “‘Take me and leave me in the woods away from you, the children and the village. I will not spread my disease! It will die with me!’” Beth began coughing.

  Daniel threw himself over her form in a way that did not erase their disgusting kiss from everyone’s mind. “‘Then my heart shall die with you, as well! Will you not hearken to my urgings to travel south with me? I know of a way that might save your life! Do you not want to see your sons grow to be strong, strapping men like their father? Do you not want to see your daughters on their wedding day?’”

  “‘I may not live to see them age but a few more days. If your journey will remove me from the village and save my children from this death, then I will suffer you to take me wherever your heart desires.’”