Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) (11 page)

Chapter
16

Clueless

Tastes like: Dry corn
flakes.

Smells like: Sweet and sour
sauce.

Sounds like: A cross
between a cry and a laugh.

Feels like: Dry ice.

Looks like: The back of a
blindfold.
 

I’m into my third day of school, and slowly settling
into my new routine. School has been much easier than I expected, thanks to
Michelle and Kelly, who appear to have adopted me into their circle. Michelle
reminds me, in a lot of respects, of Jenne, except that there are no filters on
Michelle’s mouth; she thinks, she speaks. I like that about her. I know where I
stand.

Unlike with Kael.

I’m beginning to wonder if there is anything more
advanced in his vocabulary than one word sentences; and his mood swings; every
morning, when I get into the car, it’s something different. The only constant
in our relationship, if you can call it that, is this physical connection
between us, which I’m no closer to understanding.

‘Hello? Anybody home?’ Michelle asks, and I realize that
I haven’t heard a word she’s said.

‘Sorry, what were you saying?’ I ask sheepishly.

She shakes her head, puts her toasted sandwich back on
her plate, and folds her hands on the canteen table.

‘Ok, out with it.’

‘With what?’

‘With whatever’s been eating you, babes. You came to
school, but you left your mind at home today.’

I look down at my own plate, where I’ve neatly arranged
my salad according to color, without taking a bite. It feels a little awkward
to be confiding in this girl, whom I’ve only known a few days, but I really
don’t have anyone else to talk to.

‘How well do you know Kael?’ I ask.

‘Fairly well, I guess,’ she replies, and frowns. ‘What
did he do?’

‘Nothing,’ I say hastily. ‘It’s just that he seems -’

‘Hey there ladies, mind if we join you?’

I glance up quickly to see two young male students
standing beside our booth. They don’t wait for permission, but slide in
alongside us, one next to Michelle, and the other next to me. They seem
clean-cut and harmless, but they’re both staring at me and their eyes – neither
of them green - have a weird, glassy look, similar to something I’ve seen
before but can’t quite place.

‘We’re busy here, boys,’ Michelle says in a hard voice.
‘Leave us alone.’

‘What’s your name?’ The boy next to Michelle asks. He
doesn’t even look at Michelle, let alone acknowledge that she has spoken; his
eyes, like the boy’s beside me, are glued in my direction. It’s not something
I’m used to and I don’t know how to react.

Michelle gives me a look, and it sends a shiver of apprehension
down my spine. She elbows the boy next to her, trying to push him out of the
booth.

‘Hey,’ he says, swatting at her, but he doesn’t move. I
look from him, to the boy next to me, and suddenly realize where I’ve seen that
look before. Luke. My heart starts sprinting and I try to squeeze as far away
from the boy next to me as possible, but he just follows me, until I’m mashed
up between him and the wall.

‘Back off moron!’ Michelle says loudly. My own voice is
frozen somewhere deep in my throat, along with my reactions.

‘What’s your – hey, what the -’

The boy beside me shouts in surprise as he is dragged from
the booth. Kael stands behind him, holding each boy in one hand by a fistful of
shirt. He shoves his face into their line of vision and says, in a low, eerily
calm voice:

‘If I ever catch you near my girl again, I will make you
regret it. Do you understand?’

Both boys look at him with stunned expressions, and then
the one who was sitting next to me swallows and nods. Kael lets go of them
both; they stumble back away from him, turn and scramble for the door.

When he’s satisfied they are gone, he turns back to me.

‘You okay?’

I gulp back my surprise and fear, and nod once. Kael
frowns, like he doesn’t quite believe me, but he inclines his head.

‘I’ll see you after school then.’

He turns and disappears through the canteen doors.

The whole incident is over in the space of a few
minutes, and I’m left wondering if it really happened at all. I look to Michelle,
but she is staring at the doorway through which Kael disappeared. Then she
looks at me, her expression confused.

‘Whoa,’ she says, ‘did that just happen?’

My heartbeat has slowed to a canter, and the expression
on her face, coupled with my nervous energy draws a high pitched giggle from my
throat. Michelle gives me a look that says: ‘did you lose your marbles’ and I
burst out laughing. I giggle uncontrollably for a minute, and then calm down
and apologize to Michelle, who is watching me, looking more concerned by the
minute.

‘Sorry,’ I say, ‘I giggle when I’m nervous.’

She looks me up and down dubiously, nods and then shakes
her head, like she can’t decide what to do.

‘What the hell just happened?’ she asks.

A burst of laughter spills from my lips, like a choke,
but I quickly squash it.

‘I have no idea,’ I say.

‘Has it happened before?’

I think of Luke, and shake my head. I’m not ready to
relive that memory yet.

‘But how did he know?’ Michelle asks, ‘How did he get
here so fast?’

I shrug and lean back against the booth.

‘I honestly have no clue,’ I say, ‘and when I try to ask
Kael about it, he just gets angry.’
 
 

Michelle regards me with a mixture of concern and
curiosity.

‘I wish I could help you there, hon, but our Saturday
lessons never extended to the
seastnan
bond.’

‘Do you think that’s what it is?’

‘Must be,’ she says.

I lean forward across the table.

‘Don’t you know of anyone else that could tell me?’ I
beg. ‘Kael won’t say more than a word and I’m going crazy here.’

‘What about your grandmother?’

 
‘I can’t ask
her.’

‘Why not?’

I look down at the table between us and shake my head.

‘I can’t – I just – what if it’s not normal?’

‘What if what’s not normal?’ Michelle asks.

My cheeks flush and I bury my face in my hands.

‘What’s wrong?’ Michelle asks, genuine concern in her
voice. She reaches out and pulls my hands away from my face. ‘Are you sure
you’re okay?’

‘Yes,’ I say quickly, meeting her gaze and then turning
away.

‘It’s just that there’s this, I don’t know how to
explain it,
connection
, I guess,
between Kael and I and I don’t know if it’s normal.’

‘Of course there’s a connection, he’s your
seastnan
.’

‘Yes, but is it supposed to be like this?’

‘Like what?’

‘Like, I don’t know –
electricity
, when we touch.’

Michelle stares at me, round eyed and doesn’t say a word.

‘Well,’ I prompt, ‘is it?’

‘How should I know?’ she asks and I exhale in
exasperation.

‘You’re not helping!’

‘Okay, okay,’ she replies. She rests her head
thoughtfully on her hand. ‘So, what does it feel like when
Tristan
, touches you?’

I think for a moment, remember the touch of his fingers
against my butterfly marking and reply:

‘It’s kind of the same, I guess, but less intense.’

‘Hmmm.’ Michelle says thoughtfully. She shakes her head.
‘Doesn’t seem quite right, does it? As far as I know the bonds are supposed to
be different, more like a brother versus a lover kind of thing, but as I said,
there wasn’t exactly a ‘
seastnan
101’
module in
Maor
history.’

She shoots me a sympathetic look.

‘You really need to ask your grandmother, Shay.’

I sit up straight and shake my head vehemently.

‘No way.’

‘But -’ Michelle stops when she sees my expression and
sighs. ‘Look,’ she says, ‘If you’re not going to ask then there’s really only
one way to find out.’

‘And what’s that?’ I ask, leaning forward on my arms.

‘Trial and error, babes,’ she says with a crooked smile.
  
 
 

Chapter
17

Responsibility

Tastes like: Bitter coffee

Smells like: Baby’s breath

Sounds like: A church bell
tolling

Feels like: A shoulder yoke

Looks like: A drooping
willow tree

It’s Saturday morning, and I should be at my first
Maor
history lesson, but Nan has decided
that I need some one on one time with her first – before Tristan arrives to
pick me up. Sarah, who just happens to be Michelle’s mom, is filling in for Nan
as teacher so that she can spend the time with me instead.

I’ve been awake since four o’clock this morning, trying
to work up the courage to ask about the bonds - both of them. I’ve also managed
to work myself into a headache over the visit Nan has arranged for me with
Tristan. Over the past few days, I’ve been so caught up with thoughts of Kael,
the
seastnan
bond and school, I
haven’t given much thought to the fact that I’m expected to
marry
this man, whom I don’t know.

When I come downstairs after my shower, Nan makes me a
mug of mint tea and leads me into the front Victorian sitting room. She perches
on one of the wingback chairs, and I sit on the chaise before the window.

‘Right dear,’ she says, ‘there are some things you need
to know that other
Maor
don’t, and
today is our chance to discuss them.’

I nod and swallow, then blurt out, before I lose my
nerve.

‘Am I really expected to marry Tristan?’

Nan looks a little surprised. She sighs and puts her Royal
Doulton teacup down on the coffee table between us.

‘Bluebell,’ she asks, ‘didn’t you feel something, some
kind of connection, to Tristan when you met him at the Circle meeting?’

‘Yes,’ I admit. But I feel it with Kael too, I think,
although I don’t say it.

‘That is the blood promise bond. Most
Maor
royalty have years to cultivate the
emotional bond that goes with that physical connection. You have not had that
opportunity. I promise you, though, that the more time you spend with Tristan,
the more drawn to him you will be.’

Nan sees that I am unconvinced and leans forward
slightly.

‘Do you think your parents love each other?’

‘Of course,’ I say.

‘And how strong do you think their love is?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, in comparison to your friends’ parents.’

I think about Jenne’s parents, who are divorced. Not a good
comparison. I think of Luke’s parents, who are still together after thirty
years and who hold hands when they walk. Even they don’t hold a candle to my
parents.

‘It’s much stronger,’ I say, ‘there’s no comparison.’

‘Exactly,’ Nan says. ‘The blood promise bond is one of the
strongest links there is. It is as strong as the
seastnan
bond.’

Nan lifts her teacup and takes a sip of mint tea. I bite
my lip. I want to ask which bond is stronger, but I’m afraid of the answer.

‘What if I don’t feel that bond with Tristan?’

‘But you already do,’ Nan says confidently. ‘I was there
when you were bonded, and I saw the two of you together at the meeting. The
bond is there, you just need to give it a chance to blossom.’

‘And if it doesn’t?’ I insist, cupping my hands tightly
around my mug of tea.

‘I can assure you that won’t happen.’

‘But let’s say for arguments sake, that the bond
doesn’t
‘blossom’,’ I say. ‘Will you
really still expect me to marry him?’

Nan leans forward and puts her teacup back on the table.
She clasps her hands in her lap.

‘Shaylee,’ she says, ‘never in the entire history of our
kind, has the blood promise failed, and it won’t fail you now. I’m willing to
bet that in less than a year, you will be begging to walk down the aisle. In
fact, I’m so sure about it, that I’ll make you a deal.’

I shift to the edge of my seat as Nan continues.

‘If, a year from now, you tell me that you don’t want to
marry Tristan, you don’t have to, but there are conditions. One: you need to
spend as much time with Tristan as possible. Since he works and you go to
school during the week, I expect you to spend at least some time every weekend
together, getting to know one another.’

I nod my agreement.

‘Two,’ Nan says, ‘you must attend every Circle meeting
once a month, and every bi-weekly
Maor
social gathering.’

‘Um, sure,’ I say, ‘but how is that going to strengthen
my bond with Tristan?’

‘It’s not about Tristan. It’s about getting to know your
people.’

Nan regards me frankly.

‘It’s not easy being
Maor
royalty,’ she says. ‘Our people rely greatly on us, to lead them, to keep them
safe, and to ensure their survival. Sometimes, that requires sacrifice. I want you
to know the
Maor
you are making
decisions and sacrifices for.’

‘Okay,’ I say.

Nan tilts her head and we both take a sip of our tea.
She clinks her teacup back onto the table and gives me a look that says ‘let’s
get down to business’.

‘Right dear, I want to talk about your
responsibilities.’

‘Responsibilities?’ I say, frowning.

‘Yes, as I said, with your position comes responsibility
and sacrifice. One of these days, you’ll be expected to take over from me as
Queen of this Glen.’

I’m a little overwhelmed by the words Nan is using. When
I think of my future, I use words like: ‘dancer’, ‘writer’, ‘poet’, ‘freedom’;
which are worlds apart from: ‘responsibility’, ‘sacrifice’ or ‘expected’.

‘But, what about mom?’ I ask. ‘Won’t the baton or crown
or whatever pass to her first?’

For a brief second, something sad passes over my
grandmother’s face, but then she blinks and I wonder if I really saw it.

‘No Bluebell, you’re next in line.’

‘But -’

‘That’s just how it is.’

Nan’s voice is hard and unrelenting. It’s the second
time she’s refused to discuss my mother and it makes me more curious than ever,
but I know when to stop. For now.

‘So what responsibilities will I be expected to do?’ I
ask. The word ‘expected’ grates even more when I say it and I squirm a little
in my seat.

‘You’ll be expected to lead the Circle meetings, make
decisions regarding our safety and secrecy, provide an heir, be our
representative to the
Tanistry
and
the World meeting, -’

‘Whoa,’ I say, nearly spilling the rest of my tea onto
the hardwood floor. I quickly level the mug and put it down onto the coffee
table, where it makes a neat little ring on the polished wood.
Provide an heir
?

‘Don’t worry, dear,’ Nan says, ‘I won’t throw you in the
deep end. There’s still a few years left on my watch so I’ll teach you
everything you need to know. We’ll start with -’

Nan pauses, looks past me at something outside the
window and frowns at the fine gold watch on her wrist. I twist to see what has
caught her attention. A silver beamer pulls to a stop in the drive.

‘Looks like Tristan has arrived,’ Nan observes. ‘I’d
hoped to have more time with you, but we’ll have to continue another time.’

I hear her footfalls as she makes her way toward the
door but I don’t turn. My heart is pounding as I watch Tristan slide from the
driver’s seat and walk across the front lawn. He looks confident and casually
handsome in his tight-fitting jeans and golf shirt.

 
 
When he walks into the room a few moments
later, our eyes meet and my wrist begins to tingle faintly. He smiles, a
dazzling smile that lights his whole face, and I can’t help but follow. Some of
the edginess I felt earlier melts away as he walks across the room toward me.

‘
Mo cheannsa
,’
he says.

I stand as he stops in front of me and takes my right
hand in his left. The tingling in my wrist intensifies, sending warmth through
my veins. I like the feeling. I want more of it. My eyes shoot to his and I see
my own awareness mirrored there.
  

‘Hi,’ I say, uncertainly.

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here today, Tristan,’
Nan interrupts from the doorway. ‘Kael has some things to attend to next door.’

Tristan looks surprised and he glances from me to Nan,
my hand still in his.

‘I didn’t realize he was coming too. I was just planning
on going to the river. Shaylee will be fine with me, Tanya.’

My name sounds like a caress on his tongue. I want to
hear it again.

‘I’m afraid Kael won’t like that, Tristan,’ Nan says,
shifting uncomfortably. ‘He’s made it quite clear that she is to go nowhere
without him.’

‘Surely he didn’t mean to come along on our dates
though?’ Tristan asks.

‘I’m sorry, dear,’ Nan says, ‘but it’s up to him
entirely. You know he’s only trying to keep her safe.’

‘I’m quite capable of protecting her, Tanya,’ Tristan
retorts. The way they speak about me, as though I’m not standing right there
makes me want to scream.

‘Of course you are,’ Nan says quickly, ‘but Kael is her
protector, and I’m sure you agree that Shaylee’s safety is our first priority.’

Tristan looks as if he is about to argue, but then he
glances back at me and reluctantly nods his head.

‘We’ll stay here today,’ he agrees, ‘but I’ll have to
discuss this with Kael later.’

‘That’s fine,’ Nan says. She glances between the two of
us and smiles a little. ‘I’ll just be in the kitchen, if you need me.’ She
turns and disappears through the doorway. Tristan keeps hold of my hand and
pulls me down beside him on the chaise.

‘You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you,’ he
says softly. He lifts his other hand, brushes my cheek and I melt. The way he
looks at me, like I’m a jewel, or a glass of water, leaves me breathless.

‘We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,’ he says, as he
laces his fingers through mine. It’s an intimate gesture, but the contact
doesn’t make me feel awkward. It’s like my body remembers him.

‘Did we know each other before?’ I ask.

‘Yes, since we were born.’

Why can’t I remember him?

‘But a lot has changed since then,’ Tristan says. His
eyes travel the length of me, bringing heat to my cheeks. ‘You’ve grown into a
woman.’

This way he says ‘woman’ makes it sound like an
accomplishment.

‘As children, we were best friends. I’d like to get to
know the woman you’ve become Shaylee. I’d like us to be best friends again and
more…’

I’m taken aback at his frankness, and a little afraid.
His eyes have become liquid and he drops his gaze to my lips on the word
‘more’. I pull back instinctively.

‘Um, Tristan,’ I say, my voice quivering slightly. ‘Can
we start with being friends please?’

He pulls his gaze back to mine and gives me a quizzical
look. He doesn’t say anything else but I feel obligated to explain.

‘It’s just that I hardly know you really. I can’t
remember much about living in Aylburton and I’d like to get to know you first…’

My voice trails off and I’m not entirely sure how to end
the sentence, but Tristan spares me from having to and nods.

‘So, what do you want to know?’

‘Well, everything, I guess, like, what’s your favorite color
-’

‘Silver.’

‘- And your favorite food -’

‘Sushi.’

‘- and do you have any bad habits?’

‘What do you mean by bad habits?’

‘Like do you snore?’ I immediately blush and curse
myself for saying the first thing that comes to mind.

Tristan grins at me.

‘I’m not really sure. I guess you’ll have to find out
for yourself.’

My face flames, he laughs and takes my hand in his
again.

‘You’re so pretty when you blush,’ he says, ‘but I
understand. I can’t say it’ll be easy, but I guess we can take it slow – for
now.’

I relax slightly and nod.

‘Why don’t you tell me a bit about what you’ve been up
to these past few years?’

We spend the rest of the day talking; about school,
Tristan’s job in his mother’s law firm, South Africa and my parents. By the time
he stands to leave, I feel like we are that much closer to being friends.

More, I can’t promise. He’s a great guy, both inside and
out from what I’ve seen thus far, and every time I look into his eyes, every time
he touches me, I feel the attraction humming through my veins, but marriage is
a big step; one I’m not willing to even consider yet.

Tristan says goodbye and leaves me standing on the
porch, watching as his silver Beamer disappears around the bend. When he is
gone from sight, I look at my wrist scar. It’s no longer tingling the way it
does when Tristan is near, but it’s still alive with energy.