Empath Reborn

by J. A. Culican

  When he finally comes outside, he’s smirking. "You just cost me three ounces of gold with that reckless stunt. Are you trying to get arrested? Because I don't think that helps your argument about not being an enemy of the Wraiths." His smirk and glinting eyes take the punch out of his words, though.

  "Sorry. He's not pressing charges? I can't believe that cost three ounces of gold. That's a lot of money among the mortals."

  He shrugs. "If I need it that badly, I can just use a piece of the knocker on my front door. No biggie. But seriously, you need to slow your roll, as the mortals say."

  "No, they don't. Just some of the kids. But yeah, I will. I don't know what came over me."

  "It sucks when people trash-talk your parents. I get it wherever I go, you know. Wraith, Shade, everyone hates one of my parents. But come on, I know where yours are."

  As he turns and steps off, I catch up and fall into step beside him. "You do? How?"

  "The blue suits. Among others, the Wraiths' version of the Secret Service wears those, so I just asked if he thought they were Bondermen."

  "That's the Secret Service here?"

  He nods. "And they'd only do that if your parents broke a major, major rule, or at the command of someone high up. No one would do that to my mother's guests without talking to her, so either she knows who ordered it, or she did."

  "But… Why? They're old Roma. What could they do to earn that?" I'm shocked and angry now. It's pure and unadulterated B-S, whatever they're trying to pin on my parents.

  "I don't know," he replies, and points at an empty yellow ball-car. "Hop in."

  Once the taxi pulls away and Talon gives it directions, he takes a deep breath and then looks directly at me. "I swear, whatever is going on, we'll figure it out. We'll get your parents out, okay? I've got your back."

  Then, he leans forward and kisses me on the lips, just a light brush of his lips on mine. "I promise you that. It's going to be okay."

  He says it with such conviction that I believe him completely. If he can help, he will, no matter what it is. Those words echo through my mind: I believe him. It seems I've made up my mind to trust him at last.

  I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder as the city blocks roll by with their golden and silver mansions. All the worry about my parents recedes into the background as we ride toward Birka's manor and the answers I so desperately need.

  Chapter Ten

  As Talon helps me out of the driverless bubble taxi, I have a moment of anxiety at returning to Birka's manor, but I don't see any of the many guards who were here before.

  Talon must have the same thought, because as I close the bubblecar's round door, he takes my hand and says, "It seems clear. I hope that means you're not banished from Mortals Landing because of Kasik's scheming and your mom's, um, surprising history with him."

  "No, that's not the right word. Shocking. That's better. And, I hope so, too."

  He smiles and we walk arm-in-arm to the entrance.

  "That's why I have to talk to her. I need to hear what happened between them from her own lips, not yours."

  "My mother will know where they're staying," he says, looking totally unaware of how insulting he sounds.

  "Do you really think so? Because that's what I think, too. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come here of all places to look for my parents."

  He blanches, and I almost laugh at his awkward expression. I should take pity on him. "I meant to say, I wouldn't come here without at least having you scope out the situation first. I didn't know what we'd be walking into, but I had to come."

  He only nods, and we head up the stairs, both squinting against the light glaring off the gaudy golden mansion. I wish I could let go of the doubts and questions in my mind, but that's not possible now that I know my mother was a Shade. And not just any Shade, but one who worked directly under Kasik. And, I do mean directly under him.

  A vision of my mom and Kasik together hits me as we get to the door, and I scrunch my nose in disgust.

  Talon says, "It's not that bad, just ostentatious." He totally missed the reason for my expression, but I let it go.

  When servants open the door and welcome us in, he greets them by name and asks for them to announce him to Birka. We don't have to wait long. Maybe a minute later, I see her coming down a spiral staircase, and I politely smile and wave, waggling my fingers at her.

  She doesn't smile back. In fact, her expression might as well be chiseled out of stone. "Mirela. Good morning." She turns to Talon, smiles wanly, and kisses him on the cheek. Her tone is much warmer as she adds, "Good morning, son. How are you doing, today?"

  "I'm well, thank you," he says politely. I'm always surprised how polite they are to each other in casual conversation. There’s none of the warmth and joy my parents and I had. To be fair, though, I was still basically a kid when I ran off, and Talon is no child. Nor am I, anymore.

  He glances briefly to me and says, "Ela is looking for her parents. She wants to discuss some things with her mom, as I'm sure you can understand. I thought you'd know which hostel they were set up in."

  Birka freezes in place, eyes widening just a touch, and I might be imagining it, but the air feels like it just got colder. She says, "I do know where they are, yes."

  A chill runs down my spine. Talon looks oblivious to her sudden tension, but I'm not. Something is wrong, I can feel it.

  I step up beside Talon to stand only a couple feet from her. "I'd love to know where they are, Birka," I say, and Talon's head whips around to look at me. Even to me, my voice sounded pulled as tight as a piano wire.

  Her face has become an inscrutable mask. I recall what Talon said about his mother and the masks they wear, and wonder if her iciness had been not a slip, but intentional. Perhaps to observe my reaction?

  Wow, I really sound paranoid in my head. But oddly enough, I don't feel paranoid as I look back at her and her ice-cold eyes, forcing myself not to flinch or look away.

  After a couple long, silent seconds, she says, "I am sorry to inform you that your parents were arrested and imprisoned."

  Startled, I cock my head, and then silence stretches between us. My surprise gives way to anger. "Arrested? What for, and why didn't you stop them? Dammit! You're the queen, or whatever. You have to help me get them back," I plead, but her expression tells me instantly that she'll be no help. In my shock, I don't understand why she wouldn't.

  "Why didn't I? Ela, I am the one who ordered their arrest. Your mother and father are Shades, or at least your mother is, and in league with Kasik. They are spies."

  Talon takes a step backward, saying, "Mother, no… Wait, what? Spies? Are you nuts?"

  She glares at him and her face becomes totally unreadable again. "Talon, do not lose your bearing. This is not the time to be emotional," she says, giving the last word extra emphasis, her nose rising into the air as though to get it above the stench emotions cause.

  His lip curls back for a moment, and I can see him getting control over himself. His tone of voice becomes flat and lifeless when he replies, "My self-control is not high on my list of priorities right now, Birka."

  I raise my eyebrow and shift to look at him, surprised.

  "You know very well that Ela is no Shade, and especially no spy. Do not tell me you are so petty as to attack her parents simply because you were wrong about her. I expect more of—"

  "Silence," she says with a hint of anger. I think it's the first time I've seen authentic emotion from the Wraith Queen. "You forget with whom you speak. Once again, your emotions for this young woman affect your judgment."

  "His judgment?" I say, interrupting. "No offense, but you cannot seriously believe my parents are spies. I can understand why he leapt to the obvious conclusion. So please, enlighten me. Why do you think my harmless old parents are double-agent superspies?"

  The corner of her mouth tics upward. "Amusing. Sarcasm suits you, Ela. But I don't need to explain anything to you, nor to my son. I believe them to be just what I said:
spies. Until they can prove otherwise, they remain incarcerated." She hastily adds, "And before you reply, you should know that the only reason you aren't behind bars with them is that my son has vouched for you. Though I question his judgment now, after this scene."

  I blurt out, "May I see them, please?" The only way to win this conversation is to play it by her rules, and since I don't think she'll deny my request, being polite feels like a safe way to start things off and it costs me nothing but pride. "I'd like to hear their side, and I have other things to discuss with them."

  She smiles, but I see more pity than kindness. "Of course you do. Here's where they're being kept." She hands me a small, business card-sized paper with her seal on the back and an address on the front, along with the place's name: Truth Harbor Facility #2.

  Instead of saying something about the ridiculous 1984-style name, I nod and thank her before turning on my heels and leaving, sweeping the doors aside all the way open as I pass through them. Somewhere down there is a bubble taxi with my name on it, and it will take me to the answers I need to hear.

  Chapter Eleven

  Truth Harbor Facility #2 is, at first glance, rather idyllic. There are gardens, some with flowers, not only food. There’s a jogging track, a few volleyball courts, basketball courts, and a row of shuffleboard courts. I see lots of picnic tables, and beside each one, a small metal barbecue box-on-a-pole like the ones at some parks. I see free weights and workout stations. Even a rudimentary obstacle course. And that's just what I see on the outside! Kind of posh for being a prison…

  But then, I notice other things. A chain-link fence around the entire facility, but the fencing is made of miniature razor wire rather than the usual metal mesh. The fence is designed to blend in, so it's not obtrusive at all.

  And, between the obstacle course and the weight-lifting area are black metal boxes that look like kitchen counters at first glance. But the air holes and view-slit openings give them away for what they really are—sun-box punishments, just like I've seen in every prison movie ever.

  The guard towers aren't obvious, either. Instead of the normal station atop the towers, there are windmills, I assume to generate electricity. In each one, the guard station is below the blades' lowest point, at mid-tower.

  "Yeah, it's a prison, all right," I mutter, my eagerness to see my parents slipping away, replaced by a growing anger. "How dare she do this to them. What the hell is wrong with that woman?"

  Talon, crouching beside me, clears his throat and then says, "My mother? She's made of steel, for sure. But if she actually thinks they're spies for the Shades, then they've gotten off lighter than anyone I've ever seen. Usually, they're just executed right then and there. You should thank her, not insult her."

  "Yeah, remind me to 'thank' her when I see her again, will you?" I am glad Birka didn't murder my parents, but that does nothing to calm me down about what she did do to them.

  Talon doesn't reply. That's probably wise of him, considering the mood I'm now in.

  "Come on," I say, "it looks like the entrance is on the other side. Let's get this over with so I can see my mom and dad. How long will it take us to get in for visitation?"

  He shrugs and stands, stretching his legs. As he follows me, he replies, "I don't know. I've never done this. On TV it can take minutes or it can take hours."

  "I guess we'll find out. Thanks for coming with me, by the way," I say, adding the last bit as an afterthought. I've been so focused on my parents and my own stuff that I hadn't yet thanked him for his help. My hand finds his, and we cruise until we get to the jail's front door.

  The entry area is built into the center of one wall on the largest building. It looks like a box made of big bay windows, with a Roman-style roof and columns over the entryway.

  Like everything about this place, its veneer is bright and cheery on the surface, but the recessed, automated guns, the odd grid of holes stretched across the entire front of the entry area, and the thick, bulletproof glass are all there at only the second glance.

  "Those little holes are kind of ominous, like 'murder holes' in old castles. Is it safe to go in?"

  He lets go of my hand and faces me. "I'm sure it's safe. We aren't trying to sneak in after visiting hours, after all. But even if we were, are you going to let that stop you from seeing your parents?"

  "Of course not," I reply without thinking. But it might change my strategy.

  "No, you won't. That wouldn't be the Mirela I know and… and love. Come on." He puts one arm around my shoulders to pull me along with him toward the open double doors ahead as I smile at him.

  To my surprise, though, getting into the facility turns out to be a lot easier than I had imagined. That's probably because Talon is with me, but even without him, I don't think it would have taken much longer. It isn't like in the prison movies at all. Here in Mortals Landing, they seem to trust their citizens until they have a reason not to, even in their institutions like this one.

  Within ten minutes, he and I are sitting in a private visiting room. Just before they leave, the guards assure me that there are no surveillance devices in the room beyond one visual-only camera.

  When we’re alone in the room, Talon says, "That's probably just to make sure no one smuggles anything in or out of the facility."

  "Yeah. Probably. But I don't think they can monitor every room all the time, so it has to just be used for evidence, like if someone gets a knife from a visitor. I'm sure they don't want everyone shivving each other all the time."

  He grins. I don't usually say things like "shivving."

  There's a quick knock at the door and then the two guards are back. They've brought my mom and dad with them. They leave right away, closing and locking the door behind them.

  Even before the echo from the door lock finishes bouncing off the room's flat cement walls, I'm out of my chair and lunging at my parents, wrapping them in both arms. They look startled, maybe even unsure, but when they do hug me back, I can feel the strength of their relief. Dad's almost crushing me with his bear hug, and Mom is looking over every inch of my face, her hands petting my hair like I'm a cat or something.

  I join in on their oohs and ahs and ohmygoshes for a moment. I haven't seen them in years, and that feels like two lifetimes ago. In a way, it was. Then, I see Mom is crying, but I don't say anything about it. I can't imagine how a mother must feel right now, but I know I'm on the verge of tears, too.

  When Dad's grip loosens, I step back and wipe both eyes with my palms. "Mom, Dad, I'm so glad you're okay. I never thought I'd see you again after I ran off, you know. And then to find you in that… that place, that horrible place, only to be separated again…"

  My father wipes one eye, trying to be nonchalant about it. "We love you so much, Mirela. I can't even tell you how it feels to see our beautiful daughter again after so long. We thought you'd been killed, or even picked up by Kasik—"

  Mom slaps his arm lightly. "Hush. Don't you talk about that, not right now. Nothing can spoil this moment for me." She faces me and her expression lights up. "Oh, baby girl, you have to tell us everything. How are you? How did you get here from Hollows Ground, and how did you even find out about this life? Tell me everything!"

  I spent my adolescence and all my life since running away, being more or less on my own, without their guidance and without the process of redefining our relationships like most kids get to do. So, I'm not really sure how to act around them. But I do know that I'm euphoric to see them again without some Shade shooting at us, so I force myself to push aside my normally quiet, reserved ways. I owe that to them. I guess we'll have to figure out a new dynamic between us, a new relationship model, but for now, I can only feel a rush of excitement at the thought that the next half-hour is probably going to be one of the highlights of my life.

  Or one of the worst moments of it, depending on the answers I get when I ask the questions I must have answers to.

  Chapter Twelve

  I glance at my watch ever more fr
equently as the half-hour mark approaches along with the end of the time I have given myself for my family's reunion. I was sad to hear how difficult things have been since shortly after I left, when Kasik found out about our band of Roma. Mom thought he hadn't known she was among them, but in hindsight, it seems clear that he had. But I pushed that part of the conversation into shallower, friendlier waters. I'd get to that stuff all too soon.

  And now, that time had arrived. I stared at my watch with a burning hatred of what it tells me: my half-hour is up.

  "Uh, Mom and Dad," I say, then clear my throat as they both wind themselves down from the riotous conversation we'd been having.

  "You keep looking at your watch. Is our conversation that boring?" Mom’s tone is stern, but the smile behind her eyes tells me she's being facetious. Mostly.

  "No way. I'm not bored at all. Just… I'm disappointed it's time to ask a few questions. Before I do, I want you to know something. I love you, and I love Dad," I say, glancing between them.

  "We love you, too?"

  I look her in the eyes, holding my gaze steady. "That's not what I need to tell you, or rather, it isn't the only thing. There is also this… I have questions for you, questions you are almost guaranteed to want to avoid answering, but you must know that I wouldn't ask them without reason. The answers are life-and-death important."

  "Whose life, honey?"

  "Mine, for one. Every other Wraith on the planet, for another."

  She stops her excited fidgeting and freezes. Her eyes reflect wariness. Does she know what's coming? Has she dreaded it every day of my life? If so, my asking them now will be painful and maybe even traumatic, and it would explain her hesitancy.

  I waver a moment, but Talon, standing across the room with his arms crossed, leaning against the door frame, gives me an encouraging nod and says, "You're here for a reason, Ela. Get it over with so you two can go back to philosophizing about Aunt Trudy's cats, or whatever normal people talk about."