Chapter 23
Once settled inside at the Viking-sized dining table, all matters that should’ve been or need to be taken care of are thrown to the wind as we all gorge ourselves on the cook’s decadent breakfast foods. I can’t help but laugh at Kane’s vigor as he consumes a hearty stack of flapjacks in less than ten seconds. It looks like he’s making a fast recovery.
The dark oak two-inch-thick slab of table supports the many bowls, plates, knives, cups, saucers, and even Mara, who’s perched at the end of the table looking down at Devlin with a content look, leading me to believe that this table may in fact be indestructible.
You should’ve seen the look on Mara’s face when Taylor stepped through the door. I’d never seen someone’s mouth spread so wide into such an enormous smile. The two wouldn’t let go of eachother for a good ten minutes. They held up breakfast!
Taylor, who’s to my right, is picking and prodding at an overly tender sausage link, her mouth curling in disgust at the poor piece of meat.
“Not a big fan of sausage?” I ask, secretly wanting to hear Taylor actually talk to me.
“No, and yet I’m always fed them,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve complained so many times and yet they still keep giving me them. ‘Growing girl needs her protein,’ they say. ‘Blah blah blah,’ is all I hear. You know, it’s hell living with a bunch a crazy guys from the UK and Australia.”
Kael was right about her sassiness. I think I’ll have to be careful with what I say to Taylor. She doesn’t seem to take shit from anybody.
I take a heaping bite of hash browns and take another look around this dynamic dining room. Mara and Devlin are laughing, Kane is onto his third stack of pancakes, Taylor has furtively slid the sausage link onto Kane’s plate, Pete is chewing on a rather delicious-looking waffle and has got his nose in a book, and a couple of others who I’ve never seen before are littered around the table consuming all that they can.
Kael, on the other hand, is looking rather solemn as he prods the scrambled eggs on his plate. His face shows no emotion, making me not help but wonder what he’s hiding behind that mask of his.
After surveying the table, I can’t help but wonder where Os is hiding, but before I ask, another question pops into my head.
“Who does all the cooking?” I ask Edan, who’s to my left.
“Greg. He was Ulysses’ cook and once the old man croaked, he never left. Kael, Kane, and I found him here with a surplus of food and nobody to eat it. We were obliged to take care of his problem.”
“So if you’ve been here for awhile, how do you still have food left?”
“We don’t,” he admits, but I can tell there’s another side to the story.
“So...?” I ask.
“So... nobody knows Ulysses is dead. ‘He’ still gets all of the food ‘he’ asks for and we eat all of ‘his’ food. Apparently he was quite supportive of the usurpers, so they try to give ‘him’ everything they can. Even when it means ‘he’s’ being sent enough food for forty people, they don’t protest. They’re lap dogs to the families with money. It’s quite precious, really.”
“So you’re saying money is the root of all evil?” Taylor chimes in.
“Yeah, I may be.” Edan gives a grim half-smile.
A piece of golden-brown French toast smothered in gooey maple syrup begs me to take a bite and I oblige. The smell of all the different breakfast food enters my nostrils and all I can do is take another bite.
I glance over to Kane, whose plate is completely empty. He mustn’t have thought much of the rogue sausage link that had made its way onto his plate. He raises his arms and stretches out victoriously, giving a great sigh of relief. He ends his breakfast by patting his belly and then gets up and saunters out through the enormous arched doorway.
An ancient-looking iron chandelier hovers over the rowdy bunch, giving the entire room the feel of an archaic dining hall and making things seem simpler than they are.
I glance back over to Kael, who’s moved onto picking at a butter-drenched biscuit. I just can’t help but wonder how his mood took such a drastic turn. Behind his straight face, I see sorrow in his eyes.
“Hey, why you so quiet?” Taylor interrupts my worried thoughts.
“Maybe I should ask you the same thing about when we were stuck in that prison.”
“Ha ha. Yeah, I guess you should. Well really, Mara told me that we had to have a way of outsmarting them and they already had doubts about me when we turned ourselves in. Guerra knew I was trouble from the start. So, Mara being the smart girly that she is, told me to act mute. Fortunately for us, when we turned ourselves in I had been slightly terrified and so Mara had done all of the talking. Sometimes things just work out, eh?”
“No kidding.”
“So how’d you end up in that prison anyhow? I don’t remember Mara asking you, and if she did, I honestly don’t remember.”
I smile at her honesty. “Well, I was travelling through Nebraska City when I came upon this cadaver in the road.” She shoots me a perturbed look.
“It’s a dead body, Taylor,” Edan interjects.
“Continue.”
“It had a gas mask on, so the survivalist side of my brain kicked in and I took it. But before I had the chance to run away, I heard a gunshot and Guerra’s legion of minions showed up and chased me down. I hid in a house, but they gassed me out. Honestly, I still don’t understand why they didn’t just kill me. I’m sure it would’ve been easier, even.”
“Perhaps He’s looking out for you,” Edan says as he gestures up at the ceiling.
“Yeah, maybe,” I admit.
“Or maybe you’re just damn lucky,” Taylor says with a roll of her eyes. “You know Edan, I thought you were a scientist. You know, one of those guys who uses logic rather than believing in fairy tales.”
“Someone who is truly enlightened is one who does not create boundaries with logic, but creates freedom within all of the possibilities.”
“You’re crazy.” Taylor places her plate on top of Kane’s and saunters off.
“I know,” Edan answers with a chuckle after she’s clear out of the room. “You know, Taylor’s such a naysayer sometimes. She’s a sass without reason, without cause. I know she’s young, but she’s had enough pain to last a lifetime. You’d think it would’ve had more of a, how do you put it, life-changing effect on her. But instead of that, she just acts like any rebellious, hormone-struck teenager.” He licks his fork clean of any leftover syrup. He inspects his fork carefully and lets out a sigh. “Sometimes I wish that girl would just start listening to what I have to say than just to what she believes. People are just so close-minded sometimes, enough to make you sick.”
“Maybe she’s that way to hide what she really thinks.”
“Or maybe she just wants to ignore the truth and be like her cousins—all dead, buried in the ground.”
“Whoa,” Pete chimes in. “No need to get all graphic and disturbing on us this early in the morn. She just needs time to readjust for Christ’s sake. After all, she was just sittin’ in a cell for quite a while. Just give the girl a chance, Edan.”
“I will,” he mutters softly. “I know I have to, but I just wish she’d hear me out.”
“That time will come compadre, don’t you worry about that.” Pete attempts to turn the page on his book, but fails in the process. He drops his fork and curses.
“What are you reading, Pete?” I ask curiously. I had always been a bit of a literature nut as a kid, so if they have books here, I may be able to do some reading.
“Hamlet. By Shakespeare,” He flashes a smart-ass looking smile and wags his eyebrows. I’d have to guess that he thinks that makes him sound smart.
Edan matches his level of smart-ass and then brings it to a whole new level. “So what do you think about the book, Pete? Are you understanding the plot? Do you think Gertrude or Ophelia is the more unfortunate character? What do you think about Polonius? Just another rat, eh?”
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Pete’s dumbstruck look can’t be hidden. “Honestly Edan, I’m about four pages in and I haven’t understood more than two sentences I’ve read. I guess I’ll have to take my time reading this puppy.” He pats the book with a big grin.
“That’s probably a good choice,” Edan admits. Pete hoists himself out of his chair and places his plate on the ever-growing stack.
“Pete, if you ever get lost, let me know. I’ll try and give you some clarity on the book. I remember reading it when I was younger, took me a couple reads to really grasp the plot.”
“Well hot dog, that’d be great, Edan.” He casts him a truly bright smile. “I’m sure I’ll be askin’ you questions all the time.”
Edan returns his smile and the two of us continue to pick at our food as Pete strolls out.
I look up from my food and catch Edan smiling at his biscuit.
“Pete’s a nice guy. Some people think ignorance is weakness, but it’s not. It’s just the first stage of living. Everyone is ignorant at some point.”
“Pete just seems kind of simple to me,” I say as nicely I can.
“Yeah, but he’s open. Unlike some people I know.” Edan’s eye gives a frustrated twitch and he itches his forehead to try and cover it up.
I scrape the remaining grease left over from the crunchy hash browns off of my plate and lick up the remnants greedily. I’ve always loved crispy leftovers.
My eyes are brought to the arched doorway, where Os is lingering rather suspiciously. His left hip is connected to the side of the doorway and he’s glancing around the corner as if he doesn’t want to be seen. But then I see it. As his eyes scan and finally come to rest on Kael, he grunts and walks out of the room. I guess he’s incapable of making peace with our leader, but hey, that’s his problem.
Our? Did I really just say our? As in, he is mine? As in I am a part of the group that he leads? All of these questions race through my mind and I decide I’ll go and talk to Kael sometime after breakfast and tell him I’ll stay. I don’t know why I wouldn’t anyway. It’s not like I have anyone else to look for or hunt down.
Kael pushes his chair back to get up and nearly pushes the table over in the process. He lets out a quiet grunt as he notices the ever increasing stack of plates, his face turning rather smug. He puts his on top, grabs the whole pile, and glides into the kitchen, being careful not to drop anything.
I wish I could just go in and tell him now, but from the looks of it, he needs some alone time. I’m not quite sure about what, but I can tell something needs to be mulled over in that thick skull of his.
I take a bite from the pastry which is officially the only thing left on my plate and watch Edan scratch his plate with his fork.
“Hey Edan, can I ask you something?”
“You just did.” The right side of his mouth turns upwards, he smirks.
“Well, you know what I mean.”
“Yeah yeah. Go for it.”
“Is Kael always that sad and well, down at breakfast?” I say with a little extra emphasis on “down”.
“No, Kael is a nice, friendly, charismatic type o’ guy. I very seldom see him looking depressed.”
Edan studies me carefully and my attempt at being completely straight-faced fails.
“Did you say something to him while you were in the van?”
“No. Not really.”
“Are you lying?” His eyes seem to burn through me and I can’t help but be honest.
“Ugh, well I did ask him something, but he said I shouldn’t be sorry for asking it,” I say, letting an uneasy breath escape my lips.
“Hmm, well just let him contemplate what’s on his mind. He’ll be back to normal lickety-split.”
Edan’s hands come to rest on the table, looking as though they may push away, but he stops himself, obviously having one last thing to say.
“If you think talking to him will make things better, than do it. We need Kael in working order. He is our leader,” he forces out.
I nod and watch as Edan steps back from the table, plate in hand. Before he leaves, though, I remember my pained wrist and see if I can come get it bandaged sometime soon. He happily obliges. He steps out of the room, his steps so quiet you’d think a ghost was carrying his plate.
“Aidan!” Mara’s voice startles me, but I regain control quickly.
“Hey Mara, long time no see it seems,” I reply with a smile.
Mara shuffles over to the spot in front of me and smiles. “No kidding. I can’t believe you went all covert on me and got Taylor out. All I can say is thank you, honestly.”
“No big deal. I was just following Kael and Kane. They were the masterminds.”
“Kane said you have some good moves. He said you were kickin’ some major government ass back there. I guess Kael was pretty impressed, huh?” She says with a sly raise of her eyebrow. She nudges my hand with a fork and gives out a little purr.
“Not many girls catch the eye of Kael. He is certainly one hell of a man,” she says with a few too many wags of her eyebrows.
“Hmph!” Devlin lets out a frustrated growl and struts over to the back of Mara’s chair, unable to put up with Mara going all goo-goo eyed.
“Sorry, babe,” she says apologetically. “You know I still think you’re more of a man than he’ll ever be.”
“Yeah, I’d hope ya’d think that,” he says with the roll of his eyes. His lips curl into a smirk and leans in towards her. I look away before I have the chance to see them steal a kiss from each other.
“Hey Aidan—you know if you ever need to talk to me, I’ll be here for you. I know every girl needs some ‘girl’ talk sometimes.” Mara gestures quotation marks with her fingers. “And if I’m ever AWOL, I’m sure Edan will listen. He listens to everybody.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I mutter.
“Well hey, we’re gonna go find something to do. If you need anything, come find us. Okay?”
“Yeah, see ya,” I reply glumly.
The thought of being a third wheel doesn’t sound like a blast to me so I stay in the dining room, unwilling to listen to their lovey-dovey talk. Mara’s great, but I’m thinking I’ll probably have to separate her from Devlin to be able to get anything accomplished.
I look at my empty plate and then glance around, suddenly noticing I’m the only living thing left in the dining room. Heads of lions, antelope, and zebra look back at me, eyes glazed over and faces solemn.
“Ye done with that?” Kael’s question jolts me from my stare-down with the deceased animals. His gruff voice seems to grind against the silence that had taken over the room.
“Oh, uh, yeah, here,” I say, passing the plate to him with unsteady hands.
He grasps the other side of the plate with his hand, but as he does his eyes graze over mine. A moment, that really should’ve lasted a moment, seems to last much longer. There’s something in the way he looks at me that makes my heart pound and I can hear its rhythmic beats in my head loud and clear.
He purses his lips and his eyebrows crease. He turns and leaves without another word, plate in hand.
I push myself away from the table and high-tail it out of the dining room. I can hardly feel my feet make contact with the floor as I rush up the stairs and into the room that had served as HQ as we were preparing to break Taylor out. I had left my stuff up there and I needed something to take my mind off of everything. I needed a pencil and my sketchbook.
I’m startled to find Edan leaning back in a rough-looking leather chair; his lips turn into an entertained smirk at the sight of my surprise.
“Surprised to see me?” He asks, his lips never ceasing their trademark smirk.
“Yeah,” I respond, attempting to regain my cool. “Is my backpack still in here?”
“If it’s where you left it, then it should be.”
I shuffle over to the table in the corner and pick through a pile of junk, only to find my backpack resting at the bottom. Where’d all this junk come
from? I ask myself, confused by the fact that none of this had been here before.
“Sorry about the junk. Sometimes people who are on cleaning duty have a tendency to bring my junk from other parts of the building and dump it here. They say I take up too much space.” He laughs and rubs the gray stubble that’s beginning to protrude from his jaw.
“Edan, sometimes I really think you’re a mind reader,” I admit.
He answers with a chuckle. “Perhaps I am, but hey—just be glad I’m the one who can and not Kane or Osmond. That would be talent put to waste, that’s for sure.”
My thoughts shift back to Osmond’s rather disheartening treatment of me last night and I can’t help but wonder more about him.
“Speaking of Os, do you know much about him?”
“I know enough, that’s for sure,” he says. His face turns displeased and I can see his mood change.
“Sorry to be a bother, but what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that Osmond isn’t the most likeable fellow,” he confesses.
I want to ask him more, but I don’t push it. I don’t want to make Edan mad; he’s been nothing but kind to me this whole time and I don’t want to make him regret that.
I attempt to gently slide my backpack out of the pile of junk, but to no avail. The miniature mountain progresses into an avalanche and all I can do is watch as all of the stuff crumbles down to the floor.
An awkward silence intrudes through the room and Edan lets out an annoyed sigh in response.
“Alright fine, how about this,” he leans up into a normal sitting position. “If you clean that up, I’ll tell you about your friend Osmond, alright?
“Okay, I guess I can do that,” I respond. I guess doing a little cleaning never hurt anybody.
I perch myself on the floor, being careful not to sit on any of the assorted pointed objects now strewn about, and begin the long treacherous process of picking everything up and not injuring myself in the mean time. Once I make my way through about a quarter of the pile, Edan begins his explanation.
“Osmond is one of the newer members of the Guild, he showed u-,” Edan says.
“The guild?” I interrupt, forgetting my manners completely.
Edan gives me the eye, but continues. “Yeah, it’s what we call ourselves. We have a longer, more formal name, but we refer to ourselves as ‘The Guild.’ Although Kane is prone to calling us ‘The Degenerates,’ either way we’re a group of wayward misfits who have no home, many have no family, but have quite an earnest supply of hope. “
“How’d he come up with that?” I ask, confused of what that even means exactly.
“He came up with it because a degenerate is a person who has declined from societal norms and morals, and it just so happens that we’re not really all too keen on following this new society of ours.”
“That seems strangely clever for something Kane came up with himself.”
Edan chuckles. “I know. I was just as surprised as you when I heard him say something intelligent for the first time. It was like hearing my toaster explain to me what a parabola is.
“But anyways, Osmond showed up about two years ago, around when you’d be celebrating your independence day.” He chuckles at the morbid irony. “He showed up completely alone, nearly completely unclothed, and with absolutely no supplies. Seems strange right? A man who’s been living in this new world for three years that has almost nothing? I found it to be quite perplexing. But anywho, we allowed Osmond to come stay with us, because back then we had very few tenants living here unlike now, but there was something off about that fellow. Things just really didn’t add up.”
“Like what?” I inquire.
“Well for one, his build. If he had just come from a bout of wandering like you had, he would’ve been a lot skinnier. People don’t just keep their weight on like that. I’m aware he’s not what you’d call fat, but he’s certainly not what a doctor would call ‘fit as a fiddle.’ No, Osmond had definitely come from a food source, and a rather well off one at that.”
“What else?”
“His story. For one thing, it seems to change every time you ask him, and for another thing, the one he’s been sticking to for a while makes even less sense than the ones he’s told previously.”
“How?” I ask, being sure to keep all of these facts stored for later use.
“He‘s told me that he had been attacked by dogs, and that they had stripped him and clawed him and all the drama that you can possibly think of. And yet when he showed up, I recall seeing not a scratch on his flabby body. In fact, I remember being intrigued by the fact that he was almost perfectly clean when he showed up. This leads me to wonder if, in fact, these dogs had scratched him with soap and sponges.”
I pick up a rather foul-smelling piece of parchment and cringe as the smell of wet hair and iron fills my nostrils. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, but what the heck is this?”
“Oh, sorry,” he says, swinging his chair around and snatching the brown crumpled piece of paper from my hand. “I meant to throw that away last week, but anyways, let me continue.”
“What more can there be?”
“Well there is his baffling hatred of Kael.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that, actually,” I admit, hoping he won’t question me further.
“There’s something that seems to drive Osmond off the deep end when Kael’s about, or involved, or even just in the same vicinity of the mansion. It’s like he’s deathly allergic to him.” Edan nonchalantly digs the dirt out from under his fingernails and flicks it onto the floor.
“Did Kael do something to him?”
Edan ponders for a moment and leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. His words are careful and he speaks softly, but truly. “Indirectly, I believe. Kael has always seen beyond Osmond’s poor, lonely, wanderer façade. He’s never been as kind to him as he’s been to the other wanderers we’ve taken in. I think Osmond feels threatened by Kael, which really shows that he’s got something he’s hiding.
“Osmond is also rather... hm, how do I put it? Ah, misogynistic, which is another thing that Kael has absolutely no tolerance for. Kael may be a man in every sense of the word, but he certainly respects women.”
“What does Os do?” I ask, not sure I really want to hear the answer.
“He acts as though we live back in the Dark Age, back when women had no rights, back when they were a man’s property. He doesn’t look at them as if they’re people. He looks at them as if they’re items, things that can be bought and discarded whenever he’s lost interest. Very few men think like that anymore; it truly is a very outdated mindset he’s stuck in.”
“So, is he abusive or something?”
“He’s never been given the chance to be,” Edan flashes a thankful smile. “Once a woman realizes he’s not a respectful man, they either don’t ever speak to him or they just up and leave. You’d be surprised at how many women have left due to his mistreatment. It’s rather humorous, in a dark way.
“Come to think of it, the way he pursues women is not that of a lustful man, but that of a man who seeks an insurmountable deal of power over another. He does not woo them or compliment them, all he seems to do is look at them, as if he believed he had some incredible psychic powers.”
“Strange,” I interrupt. “Every time he’s spoken to me, all he’s been is kind. I’ve never gotten a dominating vibe from him, just a vibe of an average, hometown sort of friendly guy. But as I look back on yesterday, all I can think of is how angry he got when I told him I was helping Kael. It’s like he was angry, hurt, and bitter all at once. It’s like he changed completely in that moment.”
“He’s a coward, let me tell you that, and cowards will always end up revealing their true selves in time. Just you wait.”
I pick up the last remaining bit of junk and place it carefully on the pile that’s readjusting to life back on the desk. My fingers are coated with some translucent slime and I just about gag as
I rub my hands together in an attempt to get it off, feeling a coarse roughness like that of sand and gravel between my palms. Next time Edan has me clean something, I’ll be sure to wear latex gloves.
“Aidan—be careful around him,” his eyes churning with the look of a man who’s lost sleep over the subject, weary and tense. “You’re a smart girl, I know that, but please, don’t let Osmond fool you into doing anything that may compromise you or your morals.”
I feel my head nod, but I feel like my brain had nothing to do with the command. I pause before leaving, remembering the pain in my wrist.
“Can you wrap my wrist before I go?”
“Aye, take a seat.”
The conversation and mood of the room changes from dark to cheerful as Edan tells me numerous stories of his youth back in Australia. His smiles are sincere enough to make an entire room grin. Once he’s finished, I say my goodbye and head on my way.
23
I walk out of the small gray room, feeling edgy and jilted as my thoughts retrace themselves back to Os.
Why would Os come off as being such a good guy but actually be so crude and nasty? If he’s really as bad as Edan is making him out to be, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a history as a deceiver. The way Edan had said that last plea to stay away from him seems to cut into my skin like a scythe and I can’t help but slide my hands up and down my arms, feeling troubled.
So what am I to do? Stay here and endure Os’ turbulent behavior or leave, continuing my nomadic life in isolation?
One thing is for sure, and that’s that I need to go have a talk with Kael. Whether he be in the mood to talk or not, I have to get through to him and clear up whatever’s bogging him down. If it was something I said that’s made him so glum, I want to do what I can to make it up to him, if I need to.
I tread down the stairs and through the living room, kitchen, and dining room, keeping an eye out for him, but to no avail. I ask at least ten people if they’ve seen him, and again, nothing’s been seen of him since breakfast.
As I begin searching the second floor, I spot the two best friends, Gent and Tully, and I nearly have to hit them over the head with the nearest pointy object to get their attention, but finally I get them to talk. It’s like they don’t even notice you even if you’re a foot away. They seem to communicate through something like twin-esque telepathy and sometimes they hardly talk to each other, just sharing tidbits of information by the way their eyes look, the way in which they curl their hands in movement, and even by how they breathe. They are a curious pair, Gent and Tully.
“Hey have either of you two seen Kael?” I ask, taking in a deep breath in response to having to run up the stairs to catch them.
“If one of us has seen him, then the other one probably has as well, silly,” Gent says with the roll of his eyes.
“So have you guys seen him?”
“Better.” Sully interjects.
“Yeah, he was looking rather bummed walking back into his office. You should be able to find him there,” Gent admits, his hands gripped in a concerned manner.
“Behind the mirrors, right?”
“Yes ma’am. If you can’t find him, we’ll help you look for him. We’ll be in our room if you need us,” Gent says with a wave of his hand.
I watch as they disappear behind a door to the right and log its position in my brain, making sure to remember it in case Kael is nowhere to be found.
I make my way around the landing and head down the stairs, but as I do so, I spot a familiar face. Osmond. He’s positioned himself at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the banister, and his stance is firm, as if he was positioned behind a shield, defensive and still. His gaze is not seductive, it isn’t kind, and it isn’t thoughtful. His eyes, cold like frost on a window, peer at me and he doesn’t say a word.
My feet come to a stop at the bottom step and Os’ gaze does not falter. I start to wonder if I should turn myself around and head back upstairs, an alibi of going to speak with Gent and Tully sprouts into my thoughts. But before I have the chance to turn myself around and scram, I feel Os’ hand on mine.
My automatic reaction is to pull my hand away, but his grip is firm. I begin to struggle, wondering how in the world no one is in the great room. Isn’t someone always in here?
Breathing becomes labored and I feel a tense knot wedge itself through my left shoulder. He pulls me into him and both of his arms constrict around me, keeping me caged against his chest.
“What are you doing!?” I choke out.
“Why are you struggling?” His tone is gentle, yet an edge of anger still resides.
“Because, I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me,” I breathe out. “I didn’t do anything to you.”
I pull myself away from him and as I turn to look at him, I see his eyes are not on me, but on someone else.
“Is he givin’ ye problems, love?” Kael’s voice is smooth and even, but with an underlying edge of anger. His steps move softly towards us and he places a soft, yet steady hand on Os’ shoulder and pushes him back, putting more space between him and me.
“No, he’s not,” Os spits. “All he was doing was trying to get her to talk, which apparently is too much for Miss Princess here.”
“You didn’t say a word to me. That’s bullshit,” I bite back.
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that-,”
“Back off, Os,” Kael’s voice raises. The raspy edge has returned to his voice.
“What? You think you can just reign over everyone here? Aidan is free to do as she pleases.”
“Aye, you’re right, she is. But from the looks of it she’s not interested in ye, and I don’t blame her.”
“You just want her for yourself, ol’ pal. I don’t blame ya, she’s a sight for sore eyes.” Kael’s face doesn’t give a trace of embarrassment, but his eyes look away.
“Shut up, Os. You’re making a bloody fool out of yourself. Now just get out of here, leave her alone. She doesn’t deserve yer crap,” he says, his eyes never looking my way.
“What gives you the right to tell me what to do, Kael?” Os shouts, his form puffing out in an attempt to dissuade Kael from continuing, but he’s still dwarfed by Kael.
“Because I run things here.” His voice is lowered again, but still just as powerful.
“Well hell, I could run things as well as you, you’re a bloody foo-.”
Before Os can finish his thought, Kael’s grabbed him and has him pinned up against the banister. Os has no chance against Kael and he doesn’t squirm under his grip. All that’s different is that his eyes hold the look of defeat. He says nothing.
“Osmond, my friend,” Kael bellows. “If you don’t like how things work here, then leave. You’ve done your part at the prison and I’m thankful for that, so you can go now. Leave, and never come back, because I promise you—if you leave, you are not welcome back here. Ever.” His words linger in the air, vibrating through the air like thunder.
Os twists his way out of Kael’s grip and treads up the stairs, not a word said. His walk is that of a child after just having thrown a tantrum, and his steps are quick as he reaches the top of the landing. I hear a door slam in the distance.
Kael, on the other hand, does not conduct himself like that of a child. He does not smile or celebrate in his victory, but remains stoic and solemn as ever. His gaze stays on the banister, where Os stood moments ago, seemingly hypnotized by the events that just took place.
“Kael,” I say, but it comes out more as a whisper.
“Aidan, I’d like to speak with you in private, if ye don’t mind.” His voice is smooth and soft. His eyes are turned to the floor.
“I can do that,” I half-whisper.
Kael offers me his hand and leads me off the final step, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. He doesn’t say another word, but let’s go of my hand gently. It’s like he’s ashamed to even look at me. He leads me through the great room; a few people t
hat had trickled in during the scuffle dare not say a thing or look this way.
In the kitchen, Greg is slaving over a hot stove, cooking six large cauldrons of soup. The condensation creeps up and over the stove vent, giving it the eerie look of veins. Greg doesn’t even turn an eye towards us, his concentration firmly set on his perfection of what looks like French onion soup.
And now through the training room, which unlike last time is completely barren. Kael only turns on the middle light, I’m guessing in an attempt to conserve energy, and our shadows linger on the smooth gym floor. The weight machines in the corner are still like statues, their shadows casting shapes like that of deformed branches reaching down towards the earth rather than the sun.
Kael places his hand on that certain spot on the mirrored wall and as the door props itself open, I can hear the cogs churning in the wall, like growling, impatient monsters behind a gate.
His gait is quick and straightforward as he walks through the door, not giving a backward glance. The single light in the workout room flickers off and I step through the dark doorway, wondering exactly what it is he wants to talk to me about.
I stand, waiting for the light to turn on, and as I do, panic charges through me. What if he’s going to tell me I have to leave? What if he thinks I’m not worth the trouble of keeping? Edan had said that Os has been a problem when it came to how he acted around other girls in the house, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever lashed out directly at Kael like that. Why would I be the one to make him crack?
This moment of darkness, which was really an iota of time, seems to constrict around me and I feel my breathing weaken, terror striking at my heart.
Images of being killed and disposed of flash through my brain like a movie reel cast by an antique projector. But why would Kael just get rid of me? The rational side of my brain kicks in, fighting off the paranoia. I’ve helped them multiple times! I’m aware that this world we live in is a by-product of greed, power, and selfishness, but honestly, come on! These people have been nothing but kind to me, why would they just up and maul me? That just doesn’t make any sense. But as a second turns into ten, I start to panic, paranoia beating my rationale in a jousting match.
The lights finally flash on and I cringe, expecting an axe to come swinging at my neck and having to watch the very essence of my life start spouting all over the floor, but I stop as I spot Kael, weaponless. Sometimes my thoughts really are absurd.
As well as his eye not possessing a particularly barbaric gleam, he doesn’t even look angry. I take in a much needed breathe and try to calm my sharply beating heart down. But really, it may take a couple of hours to slow that puppy down.
“Sorry, sometimes I just can’t find the light switch in here,” Kael admits, an edge of humor in his voice. His lips upturn into a smile and all memories of the confrontation with Os and Kael’s previously solemn mood is wiped clean from my mind, but for only a moment.
His lips curl down and his expression turns rather despondent. His blue eyes truly like the sea, changing and churning, for now look like saucers of stormy water. Eyes that had once been bright and shining, now fevered and grayish; I just want to make things right with him. I’ll do whatever I have to.
“Kael, I don’t think I should stay,” I say, trying to keep my voice even, but I feel my words start to shake. “All I’ve done here is cause trouble. I don’t want to put any more stress on you. I know you’re a busy man.”
I grip my hands together and examine the floor. As much as I hate to say it, this is probably the best thing for the Guild. I’ll be their ally, but I just feel like things have become more complicated since I got here. I have to do my part to help out my fellow survivors, and that I will do.
“Wow, well, if that’s really what ye want to do, Aidan, then it’s not like I can just tie you up and lock ye away.” His voice is soft, but I can hear an edge of disappointment in it.
“Yeah, I think it’ll be best for you guys,” I admit. I don’t want him to think I’m leaving him in particular, so it’s probably best if I explain myself. “Ever since I got here, I’ve seemed to complicate things. I guess I just don’t really work well with you guys.” As soon as I say the last bit, I wish I could take it back. I work great with them; it’s just that Os hates my guts!
“Well, love, I can’t help but disagree.” I pull my eyes away from the ground and look up to find him looking straight at me. He doesn’t have that solemn look on his face anymore; he just looks as though he’s been hit right across the face. The hurt in his eyes seem to simmer in the light of the small office, but he closes them quickly. His hand grazes up the back of his head and he walks around to the front of his desk, leans up against it, and scratches his head.
He removes his fingers from his dark hair and places his hands on his thighs, looking everywhere but at me. I’m starting to wonder if I’ve ruined the little sliver of friendship I thought the two of us had. I just wanted to help. Words don’t come to my lips, but they come to Kael’s, like a firestorm and whirlwind beating against each other.
“Aidan, if you think you have anything to be ashamed of when it comes to staying here or if ye think that that whole deal with Os was all of your fault and that he’s not usually like that and that you’ve caused a great deal of trouble for us, then you’d be dead wrong.” His voice is raised, but he doesn’t say this in anger, he seems to be saying it in desperation. “All you’ve been to us is a great help and a great girl, and we want nothing more than for you to come stay with us for good. Again, I would understand if you needed some more time to mull this over and whatnot. Please, just think this over, I know you don’t think you’ve done much for us, but you really have. You helped Mara and Devlin outta that prison and then you went beyond that and helped us get Taylor out. You didn’t even know any of us and you went out of your way to help all of ‘em. You’re a great girl and you deserve to be able to sleep at night without worrying about being picked up or captured, because I’m sure if they caught you again they wouldn’t be so kind this time, honestly.
“Come here Aidan, and just sit down,” he pleads as he attempts to catch his breath. He said that entire speech with just one breath. Jesus, he must have some freakin’ enormous lungs. I step around the arm chair and sit down, his body only a foot away from mine. I place my hand on the smooth, leathery arm of the chair and wonder whether I should look up or not. I don’t know if I can handle hurting him anymore. He’s a good man.
“I’m not okay with ye leaving, alright?” Kael says, his face curled into a heartbroken visage. “I know that being the leader here means that I’m the one who has to be reasonable and take hits for the team and whatnot, but I just can’t watch you leave. I just don’t know what I’d do if ye did.”
I look up, and see his blue eyes. They’ve changed again. They aren’t gray, or dark, or sad, but just the deepest, purest blue you’d ever see. My mouth opens to say something, but I’m taken aback by him and his protective gaze. I have to take a couple of breaths to even begin to think coherently.