***
I woke to the sound of muffled laughter. Silence. Then the girlish giggles rang out again. My lips curved against the cool satiny sheets for a fleeting second before I pushed up on one elbow and tucked a hank of hair behind one ear. "Hi, Ash. Hi, Sienna."
"Good morning," Ashley whispered loudly. Sienna smiled.
"It's okay, girls, no need to whisper. I'm up."
"You can go back to sleep, if you want to."
The very thought made me groan. "I wish. Unfortunately," I yawned and sat the rest of the way up, "I've probably overslept as it is. You girls wouldn't happen to have the time?" Both children shook their heads.
"Mama says you're going to the beach."
"We are." I nodded, hoping they wouldn't decide to ask any questions about the trip to Coztal.
"Can we go with?" Ashley asked, her small voice clearly hopeful.
"No. I'm afraid not."
"It's too dangerous for us, isn't it?" Sienna regarded me quietly, more somber than her sister.
"Oh. Well. Uh?" I stammered. Where the hell was Claire?
At that moment, Marta walked in and from downstairs came the faint ding of the oven timer. Her announcement of chocolate chip cookies was enough to persuade Ashley and Sienna to leave the room. Well, that and a stern look.
"Thanks." I yawned and stretched, falling back against the cool, smooth pillows.
"Mhmm," Marta grunted and plunked a basket of folded towels onto the dresser. "You're going to do something with your hair before you leave for the coast, I hope."
I turned my head toward the opposite wall, staring at the gray-blue expanse of sky outside the window until the urge to laugh had passed. Finally, I turned warm eyes on the older woman. She was always at her most prickly when she worried. And right now she was one step away from hostile.
"Yes, I was just getting up to shower, actually."
Marta nodded and left the basket where it was, headed for the door. She paused at the threshold. "You be careful, you hear me?" Her voice was harsh and she didn't turn around, just stood there clutching the doorframe.
"I will," I said softly.
She nodded once and was gone.
The polished wood floor was smooth and cold as I swung out of bed and padded across the room to the window. It was impossible not to notice the glass was so much cleaner than my windowpanes at home, another clear sign Marta was nervous about everyone leaving today. She worried endlessly over her flock; despite her often times gruff exterior I knew this trip was taking a heavy toll on her and we hadn't even left yet. But we would. Soon. I twitched the curtain aside a little more and stared out into the day. On the lawn below, men were already beginning to gather. Rain clouds threatened but were still far off in the distance. It was entirely possible we would have mild sunshine all the way to Coztal. "One could hope, anyway." I sighed, letting the cornflower-blue curtain fall back into place. It was time to get ready.
I took a shower and even lingered for a minute or two under the hot spray, an action that was totally out of character but impossible to resist. The clean heat of the water was far too tempting and it was doubtful there would be another opportunity for a shower-a hot shower-until our mission was completed.
So I rested my palms flat against the roughly textured white stone tile of the shower wall and let my head fall forward, let the water sluice through my freshly washed hair and over my back. A knock at the door shattered the moment of peaceful solitude.
"Ari? We're supposed to be ready to leave in ten," Claire called through the solid wood of the bathroom door.
Ten? I straightened and immediately twisted the shower knobs, cutting off the water. Had I heard her correctly? Ten minutes?
"Come in," I called back, hurriedly snagging a clean towel from the rack beside the sink and wrapping it loosely around myself.
"Sorry." She stuck her head into the room before opening the door the rest of the way and stepping into the bathroom, waving a hand to clear the heavy steam from the room. "I didn't want to interrupt, but Mark just told me we're all leaving now so?" She shrugged.
"Something's wrong," I guessed, striding past her into the bedroom. Cool air rushed over my bare skin and I shivered a little as I tossed the towel aside and began to dress.
"Of course. Why wouldn't something be going wrong on this damned day? The children are downstairs crying. Tara's turning the living room into some sort of winter wonderland gone wrong in an effort to calm them, and Marta's mixed enough chocolate chip cookie dough to give us all diabetes three times over. And by us," Claire enunciated, tugging a brush through my wet hair before she began to hastily braid the wet locks, "I mean the entire army of Terlain. I warn you, Aries, it's not a pretty sight down there." She tied a black elastic band around the end of the tightly woven braid just as I snapped the top clasp on my snug tan canvas pants and tied the strings on the dark brown leather top.
"Did he say why we're leaving right now?" I asked, strapping a sheathed knife to my left thigh. Claire tossed me the heavy black canvas backpack that I'd prepared the night before. She shook her head.
"He didn't stay long enough to explain. But I can tell something is very wrong."
I nodded, laced and buckled my boots. Then we were headed down the stairs.
Ashley and Sienna had quieted to intermittent hiccuping sobs. The smell of burnt chocolate filled the air, and Christmas lights had been strung haphazardly from every surface and corner. In the midst of the chaos stood Tara, looking like a wide-eyed, perverted sugarplum fairy in a short red dress and red hat with a white tassel at the top.
"The girls and I are working on a Christmas play," she announced brightly. "You're all going to be so impressed when you come back from your trip." Tara's voice shook a little, and I shot a sympathetic look in her direction. It was obvious she was trying hard to distract the distraught little girls.
"A play? Truly?" I forced a grin and hoped it looked natural enough to be convincing. Tears had gathered in the corners of Claire's eyes, but she blinked the moisture away before it could fall. My heart clenched painfully as I watched her sink to one knee and open both arms to her young daughters.
"I'll be back before you know it," she murmured, squeezing Ashley and Sienna close before releasing them and climbing unsteadily to her feet. "And when Daddy and Aunt Aries and I come back, we expect to see a wonderful Christmas play," she added with a tremulous smile.