by Kade Cook
“Hey, kiddo, how are you holding up?”
Her step slips at the sound of her old friend’s words in her mind but she recovers and continues on her route. “Super, can’t you tell?”
“You are going to be okay,” Ethan whispers into her thoughts. “Just keep your cool, answer their questions, but bite your tongue if you have to. There is no need of turning this into a full-blown witch hunt if we can help it.”
“I know, I know…” she answers, stealing a glimpse of him from across the table. Gabrian stumbles again just before she reaches her seat but catches herself before she falls. “Stupid feet,” she growls.
Ethan smiles under his lifted hand but his humour disappears as soon as she is seated and he meets her gaze, sensing the fear in her energy. “It’s going to be all right…”
Gabrian closes her eyes just for a moment, searching for any signs of inner strength. The whispers of unkind thoughts float around the table, drowning out Ethan’s humanity. The words are built from fear, which she understands, but with it comes the vicious murmurs of pure disdain for what she is, never mind what she has done.
A Borrower—a Borrower that crossed a line.
“Gabrian, do you hear me?” Ethan’s concerned words scrape against her mind like sandpaper across her skin.
“Yes… I hear you,” she snaps at him, feeling the edges of her nerves fray. Her eyes rise to meet his, knowing immediately she is in the wrong. “Sorry, Ethan…I hear you, thank you.”
Ethan shoots her a wink of support then presses his knuckles just beneath his chin to exaggerate the effort of pushing it up.
She gets it. He has faith that she can do this, so it is her turn to have faith in herself. And with this thought, her chin rises as well as her defences for battle.
4
IMAGINARY FRIENDS
Vaeda rises to address the table. She parts her delicate lips to speak but before her words can exit, the silence is broken by the intrusion of another’s voice.
“So, are we to understand that you actually know your so-called captor?”
Taken a bit back by the sudden yet expected immediate onslaught, Gabrian replies, “Yes.”
“Sorry. Can you speak up so we can all hear you?” Caspyous hisses but does not bother to make eye contact as if the very act would lesson his hierarchy over her.
Gritting her teeth and feeling the sting of venom in his words, Gabrian alters her answer. “I said yes…I…did,” she spits out every single word with disdain as it comes flooding back why she dreads these meetings.
“And how is it that you came to know this…thing?” he hisses again at her, now inspecting the ends of his fingers like they hold more interest than her reply.
Clenching her fists, she pushes all her dislike for this man into her hands and concentrates on not wanting to choke him. Clearing the curse words from her throat, she answers, “He was my imaginary friend when I was a child. He used to come visit me at—”
“Are those not signs of when a child is feeling lonely or being mistreated?” Caspyous interrupts, lifting a brow.
“It is not unusual to see cases of children who create imaginary friends—it is based upon the individuality of the child. It rarely holds much relevance to—”
“Were you lonely as a child, Miss Shadwell?” He sneers at her.
“No, I—”
“Did the Shadwells mistreat you?”
“NO!” Gabrian growls back at him, fingers clenched tightly and burning at the tips to the point of discomfort.
“Tell us then, why a perfectly happy young girl would have the need to ally herself with an invisible friend—a monster, in fact.”
“I don’t know,” Gabrian utters, unable to defend herself, and feeling her body shiver under the verbal attack.
Vaeda steps into the intentional interrogation. “Please, Caspyous. That is just about enough. We are not here to tear Gabrian’s childhood apart, we are here to find out how all of this started and understand why he chose her to communicate with as it may play a significant role in learning how he got out.”
Cimmerian glances up from his folded fists at the mention of his adversary’s escape from Erebus but does not add to the conversation. Keeping himself out of the line of fire is much more important than accosting the youngling about her part in the fiasco. He knows the part she played as well as his own.
Relief that someone had the decency to step in and defuse the nonsense, Gabrian’s eyes glaze over from the thought that anyone could think Jarrison or Sarapheane would ever do such a thing. It rips at the tattered edges of her already-fragile heart. Finding the bitterness of rage that lies deep within her, Gabrian pushes back the longing to defend her parents and refuses to let her emotions get the better of her.
Pointing her attention back in Gabrian’s direction, Vaeda’s face softens. Her eyes find the youngling’s glare, trying to invoke a sympathetic yet silent apology for the outburst from the Hydor Elder. “Gabrian, dear, would you mind telling us how it is that you came to know this invisible friend of yours?”
Gabrian’s eyes shift, shooting out into the distance. Her need to find Shane is now a sudden priority. His eyes have never left her and he returns her pleading glance with a nod of encouragement, allowing her the knowledge that he is here for her no matter how this meeting turns out.
How could she have known her childhood friend was a known killer returned from the grave? A few months ago, she had thought she was a mere human living an ordinary life.
Holy crap they are going to crucify me. Her fists release from their intense grasp and her fingers involuntarily begin to tremble.
In that moment, she hears a friendly word of advice.
Just breathe, Gabrian.
Her lock on Shane lessens and she shifts her stare to her never-faltering mentor. His words hum inside her head, helping her gather her sudden loss of courage, and she welcomes his kind intrusion. Pulling strength from his gentleness, she looks away and prepares to address the question.
“I don’t…” she starts meekly when a huffing sound thunders across the table. Irritation edges its way back into her skin and she sits up in defiance, raising her chin to mirror the smug faces of those at the table challenging her integrity.
She inhales in preparation to elevate the decibel level of her voice. “I don’t remember when or how it all began. I was merely a child but…I used to hear voices, or one voice in particular, just after my folks tucked me in bed and the lights had been turned out—a warm soothing voice that would beckon to me, asking me to come play with him down by the garden gate.”
“And you didn’t think this to be an odd thing?”
“I was a child, how would I know what was odd and what wasn’t?” she snaps, not caring who her tone may offend. Gabrian can’t help narrowing her eyes at the question mostly because it is Caspyous asking but partly because it is illogical to think a child would know the difference at such a young age, where imagination is more likely to factor into most equations.
“Anyway…” she continues, looking away from the Hydor Elder and trying hard not to roll her eyes at him, “…he would ask me about my day and all the things I had done. We would play make-believe and he would tell me stories about imaginary worlds that he had been too, promising to take me one day.”
The Elders begin to shuffle in their seats and heads turn to eye the reactions of their peers. Gabrian notices the stir but continues with her story, telling them of how pleasant their interactions always were and how frantic her parents seemed to be when they would appear out of nowhere in search for her. She never understood why they looked that way because she had always felt so happy and safe with Ayden. It dawns on her that maybe they had a good reason to be afraid.
“He would ask about who I lived with. What they looked like, but he always seemed disappointed.” Her mind drifts back to their conversations—to his patience with her as she told her stories, always with a hint of sadness lingering in his gaze.
A voic
e shreds through her unshared memory.
“He was looking for her. He had to be,” Arramus suggests, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the smooth marble table. His grey smoky eyes jump from Elder to Elder until reaching Orroryn’s furrowed brow and rest there.
Gabrian breaks from the image and her eyes rush to the source of the statement. “Looking for who?” she asks with the innocence of the child within, hearing the whispers burn across the fold.
Arramus drops his knowing eyes from Orroryn’s still silent position and turns them to acknowledge the youngling’s inquiry. “Cera,” he answers, words soft and free from authorities.
The massive measure of a man that held the title of Elder of the Egni Fellowship shows no malice or anger in his gaze toward her but Gabrian’s skin still prickles at the sound of her birth mother’s name. It has been a while since anyone has mentioned that name, though her dreams remind her nightly about the woman. She sacrificed herself to help Gabrian through the mental gate and bring her back from the coma she had been stranded in just weeks ago—fighting her way through some twisted compulsion that Ethan says Ayden pulled her into in order to confuse what was real and what was not. And now, somehow her mother has been pulled into the messy midst of it all.
“But…” Gabrian tucks her fingers together and bites down on the top of her folded knuckles, staring down at her feet in an effort not to snap. Lifting her eyes to seek out Ethan, she continues, “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he be looking for her?”
Gabrian notices a slight shift at the table. A subtle yet uncomfortable glare exchanged between Orroryn and Vaeda is caught, not only by her, but by Elder Ethan as well.
“Because she is the one who banished him to Erebus,” Vaeda reveals with a quiet but firm admittance of truth.
Gabrian’s pupils dilate and her mind drifts back to her parents’ home. The memory of Sarapheane’s rendition of who she truly is—the story of the Realm and its secrets—screams out the recount of her birth and how she came to be. It was the night her birth mother risked her life to rid the world of a monster that was out of control. The story of a monster that had been once an honourable man stung by an incurable disease—a craving of life essence so strong it caused him to willingly stop fighting the madness within and surrender to the consumption of the fever to become a Vampire—or Vapir in terms of the Realm.
A creature without remorse, or conscience—a creature she had been told was her father.
Gabrian stops breathing. A ring of frost ignites around the edges of her irises as the air hitches in her lungs. Her eyes jump directly to Orroryn and he becomes aware that she knows the significance of it all. A swirl of forest green replaces the calmness of his normal sea-green eyes and it grips her ice blue stare in an embrace—forcing a silent message of understanding as he shifts his head from side to side, not faltering in the intent look.
Ethan’s skin tingles from the sudden thickening of tension in the air and flashes of Gabrian’s long hidden story is released to him in a moment of lapse in her mental shield. His pulse quickens and his mind releases an urgent plea to her.
This is not the time or the place for you to let them in on your secrets, Gabrian, trust me on this one. They will rip you apart.
Gabrian’s eyes slip from her silent conversation with Orroryn, and she lowers her chin just a fraction in a nod to signify she understands both of them.
Keep up your charade just a little longer. Give them only the basics but nothing more until I have a chance to sort this all out with Vaeda and Orroryn, Ethan coaches from his stone chair. Can you do that?
Yes, I think so. She swallows what little moisture she can find in her mouth to wet her throat and enable her to continue speaking, choking down the fear that wants to rush out from every nerve ending she has, and shakes her head in a mock gesture of disbelief or confusion—she does not care which one they comprehend as long as they do not question her on it. Her will is good but after all the internal revelations she was not expecting, Gabrian is not so sure on the strength of her heart.
Vaeda sees the pain of it all struggling to stay buried beneath Gabrian’s tough exterior and takes this moment to steer the inquiry in an altered course.
“Gabrian was a mere infant when all that occurred and there is no way she would have been involved with Cera’s conflict with Adrinn,” she confirms, waving her hand to dismiss and disarm the subject. She places it gently back into her lap, folding her fingers neatly together and inhales a slow ragged breath. “Now tell us, dear, since moving to Manhattan with your parents, did you remain friends with him all this time?”
Dragging her mind away from the scandalous discovery of who Ayden was—is—she cannot help but mouth his name across her lips. It does not sound right to her. How could any of this sound right? She huffs out a sudden hurtful breath in an effort to find words to answer Vaeda’s question, feeling the weight of the unsuspecting eyes of the Elders resting on her.
“Umm…no,” she manages to get out. “He stopped coming to me when my parents moved us away to the city. I hadn’t seen him in years and forgot about him, actually.”
“So, you saw him again when you came back here to visit your parents?” Vaeda encourages, letting Gabrian catch her breath.
“No, not at first—he only appeared to me after my mother and father had…” She swallows hard again to find the strength to force out the words. “…had died. I was in a bad place, desperate to find some solace in my life.”
From the back of the room, Shane’s heart tears a jagged rip through his chest under the guilt of knowing he played a big part in Gabrian’s pain during that time. His arrogant and selfish actions pushed her away in her time of need and he can hardly bear it, blaming himself for her turning to Adrinn for comfort.
“He befriended me and helped me see hope at a time when the world seemed to be at its darkest for me.”
“And so the idea of sacrificing human life to empower a blood thirsty Vampire is an acceptable way for you to deal?” Caspyous spits at her through his steepled hands—the threat of a murderous storm raging within his royal blue glare.
“No… no, I didn’t see…it wasn’t like that,” Gabrian yells out, getting to her feet to defend herself. “It’s not how it happened.” Her eyes rush to Shane who shifts on his feet but stands helpless on the other side, unable to protect her, to comfort her in her distress. He is the only soul in this Realm that knows of her and Adrinn’s indiscretions before the monster decided to turn on her.
“Well, youngling,” Caspyous smirks at her in her show of defiance, “how did it happen then?”
Gabrian’s hands pump with tension as the sparks burn the edges of her fingers, and she slowly lowers back into the stone chair. She still is not one hundred percent sure of what happened. That night is not real as she lived it. She knows Ethan, Orroryn, and Shane told her that Adrinn tried to destroy her in order to get her power but she cannot see it—any of it. She only has the memory of her friend pleading for her help, to save him from the wrath of the Covenant. They were trying to take him away again, to destroy him, and she could not let that happen.
She just couldn’t.
“I didn’t know…” she starts, running her fingers through her long dark tangles of hair. “It was like a dream where nothing makes any sense—where everything is jumbled together into a mess of thoughts and feelings without any logic to it.” Except the understanding that I could not let my friend die, not on my watch. Not to them.
“I don’t know…I didn’t know…that is a common theme with you, isn’t it? How convenient, for you. Well, is there anything you do know? Because I, for one, am having a hard time believing you innocently befriended this monster and willingly tried to kill people for the greater good in order to save him.” Caspyous’ eyes narrow into mere slits as he stares her down.
Gabrian feels his hatred burn through her, making her uncomfortable in her own skin, and she hopes the wards around the Covenant are as powerful as the Elder
s claim they are. She tucks her arms around her waist—mentally protecting herself from his invisible hellholes of disdain, just in case they are wrong.
“Do you have any idea how ludicrous this all sounds?”
It’s too quiet. Way too quiet. The silence around the table hurts Gabrian’s ears as the group waits for her reply. As rotten as Caspyous is being to her, she knows he has a valid point.
“Yes, I do,” she merely whispers her answer. “I know.”
“Well, at least you know something. Now that is a huge relief to the Covenant.” He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of him, huffing out a breathy laugh in displeasure of her answer.
Gabrian presses hard against her emotions, willing the tears that are stinging her eyes to stay put. She refuses to give the monster sitting at the table an ounce of pleasure in seeing her falter.
Hang in there, kid…it’s almost over, Ethan hums his supportive voice through her mind. Gritting her teeth to hold back the dam, Gabrian’s armor cracks in the warmth of his kindness but she still welcomes it with open arms. Metaphorically speaking.
Vaeda clears her throat to deflect the attention onto her, knowing Gabrian is at her breaking point. “Is there anything else you can recall that might be important, anything at all?”
Gabrian lowers her eyes for a split second and shakes her head.
“Ethan assures us that your memories have been tampered with by compulsion. A very manipulative compulsion seems to be implanted deep within, so I have asked Kaleb to see to it that you have enough tincture on hand to help with the confusion and dissuade any kind of future attempts from anyone to compel you. Isn’t that right?”
Everyone’s eyes slip to touch upon Kaleb’s still presence. His sun kissed honey skin hides the shade of rose dancing across his flesh as the sudden shift of attention is weighted on him. “Of course, Lady Zephyr. I will ensure she has something to help protect any unwanted intrusions.”
