Authors: Annalynne Thorne
"Please, Terra? You have my word that they'll be fine. Unlike your house, Hadrian doesn't know where we are. My grandmother moved a lot after my mom and brother died. When I turned eighteen I took our last house and she moved here. He assumed she died long ago, I bet." He groaned and stepped closer to her, speaking quietly into her ear. “I promised you last night that I would protect you and your sisters. I promise you again that I will do that. Maybe that's why I'm the guy, because we feel the need to protect the girls.” He smirked playfully.
It warmed her once more, and his declaration was reasonable enough. She nodded.
It was a rotten promise to make, and they both knew that it was thin as a sheet of ice, but if it made him feel marginally better...
The house was in disarray, newspapers scattered over the couch and trickling down to the floor. The whole place reeked of cigarette smoke, but she had known that beforehand. It was lucky with his training outside habits that his grandmother's house did not suffer the same fate. She was not so much saying that it was luck than it was the Kin who kept it in good order, as little as there was.
It was not surprising. They had not taken their car, but Bryne's instead. Preferring to walk if he could, for most of the time it was left in the driveway. Fast food wrappers littered the floorboards, a thick blanket of dust covering the dashboard. She saw a silver gum wrapper in the handle of the door. It reeked of smoke too, more so than the house. Again, she was not surprised.
"Why did you want to leave your grandmother when she was in such poor condition?"
"I didn't want to leave her. I thought it would be safer for her. You heard what Hadrian did to my family. I wouldn't let him take her too."
"It doesn't sound like you blame yourself," she noted aloud.
He gave her that crooked grin. "If I expect you not to blame yourself for Ian's death, I should do the same. Can't be a hypocrite now."
She smiled right back. "That's right. I don't blame myself, but I wish there was something else I could've done. I still think about it, still dream about it."
"I know. I hear you. Before Marissa woke us up, you were crying. You cry a lot since his death. You gaze off into space and I know you're thinking about him. You fumble more. Yesterday you buttered your hand instead of the toast. For anyone else this would be cause for years of therapy and realizing at the end of your sessions that it's never going to go away. I think you're doing well, if that means anything."
"It does."
"Follow me."
Terra trailed Bryne into his bedroom. A king sized bed set in the middle. There was an expensive stereo system in front of it, the remote control on the nightstand, the legs being carved of dragon feet or a similar reptile. It was gloomy, the black curtains pulled over the windows blocking out any source of light. It may have been because of that, but either way it smelled worse of smoke there than anywhere else. She supposed the curtains held most of it, the heat from the sun extracting it and releasing it into the air, and it was especially sunny that day.
There was a guitar in the corner. He picked it up, perched himself on the edge of his bed and set it on his knee. He strummed a few strings and altered the knobs at the top.
"You play. You never told me that." Terra sat next to him kicking off her shoes and bringing her feet up.
"Yes. I play." He flicked the strings, his fingers moving over them, holding them expertly. He tapped his foot setting a beat, and he began to sing, low, deep, sensuous, and striking cords in her that she hadn't known were there. Then, he sung slow and sweet....
“Fire, fire, bring me down,
Where the embers glow.
Dying inside of me,
I hate you, I hate you, I do.
Air, air, bring me to life,
Spark the skies with red,
Show me why I'm alive.
Water, water, drown me in your flowing heart.
Show me what I've done wrong,
Hurt me the way I've hurt.
Destruction is my peace,
It's why I exist.
I hate me, I hate me, I do,
I hate everything I'm putting you all through.
Earth, earth, bring me to myself again.
My purpose is within you holding it deep,
Feed me what you can't keep.
It's you I belong to.”
He slowed, the crescendo trailing to the last cord that rung and echoed. He kept his eyes down, as though he was embarrassed by what he shared, but for Terra it not only rung and echoed in the room but it rung and echoed in her heart.
"When did you write it??"
"Six years ago."
"Before you met us," she said softly. "That's amazing. It's beautiful, Bryne. Thank you.”
"It shows you that I knew it was you before I met you. Earth was the only one to make sense to me. I never knew why that was.”
She sighed, “because you're born from me? Air helps you along. That would make sense.”
“I said I never knew why, I didn't say that I wanted to figure it out. Some things don't have answers, Terra. I'm okay with that, to just live as it is without seeking anything more. You're all I need.” He traced a vein in her hand, from her wrist to her knuckle. “Be careful defeating Hadrian. Don't die.”
It was a rotten promise to make, and they both knew that it was thin as a sheet of ice, but if it made him feel marginally better... “I won't.”
He filled the gap between them, and pushed his lips on hers, moving against her in a slow melody that was just as meaningful as the lyrics he sung and played for her. She placed her hand to his cheek, the heat nearly burning her, but not enough. She wouldn't break from him. Suckling his bottom lip it was her secret promise that what she felt was true. Whatever would happen in the future wouldn't change that. He was hers and she was his. They belonged together.
He bit her gently, and something swooped inside of her stomach. It was unlike anything she had felt before, but when she pressed harder, looking for it again he pulled back.
"We have to go," he said, his tone four octaves lower than usual.
"Um, Bryne, do you think it would be okay if I asked your grandmother a question?"
He rose his brow in surprise. "What question?"
It was time that she told him. They couldn't do it behind his back, and she was the right person to ask him. His song proved it. "About the prophet. I think… Marissa thinks…that she may know who the person is. Haven't you ever wondered?"
"I had more important things to be spending my time wondering about. What's important about it?"
"I don't know... I guess it's..." Terra looked to the blocked window, not wanting to look him in the face. "I guess in case anything happens to me, I want to know all of the answers. I want to know what exactly I'm dying for."
He got on his knees, his expression flickering with frustration to borderline fury. "You're going to die. I won't let that happen, you have my word."
"You can't promise me that."
"We all make promises we can't be sure if we'll keep." He groaned, "fine then, I promise you what I've promised you several times in the last few days. I will do everything I can….”
"To keep me and my sister’s safe," she finished for him and touched his chin. "Thank you. For everything you're doing for us."
"You're my family now," he said simply. "Home now? You can ask grandmother about the prophet when we get there."
Terra smiled in agreement and they walked out of the house, his guitar swung over his shoulder. Outside, in the frigid air he noted a tree, attempting to grow out of the hard and harsh ground. He handed her the guitar case, and went back inside. He came out with a small spade and a clay pot. He dug up the tree, the roots and all and placed it inside, patting down the soil with his fingertips.
"For you," he said, taking back the guitar and placing the tiny life in her hands. "In replacement for that cactus I spotted in your room."
She lovingly caressed the rough bark. "This is very nice of you."
"Be careful, you'll ruin my rep."
Hand in hand, they walked to the car, away from the house, and for him, it would be the last time.
There was an ear-splitting boom, heat as great as Bryne's temperature threatening to scald her. She didn't look to the scene, but at Bryne. She could see the tall stature of the fire reflecting in his fearful eyes.
The glowing white orb was high in the silky black sky. A waxing gibbous she recognized. She stared up at the moon a lot as a child, wishing that she could be on it. She imagined silly things only a child could imagine. Gravity present she would swing and still be able to fly. She would stretch her feet out, and for once, she would put her thumb to the Earth and say that it too was no larger than her thumb.
Terra kept the window cracked, allowing a slight breeze to ruffle the top of her head, airing out the cars stench as well. The very small potted plant laid in an inner pocket in her jacket. She thought of where she would put it as she peered through the window that was as grimy as the house's she watched as the neighboring homes fly by. She counted, like counting sheep and feeling drowsiness itch at her eyes. She was a sheep - or rather a house - away from sleep when a loud bang, like a gunshot exploded. She ducked in her seat.
Bryne let out a long slew of curse words, banging on the steering wheel. He pulled over to the side. "Great, this is freaking great!"
There was black smoke ensuing out from under the hood of the car blocking their view of anything ahead of them. Bryne banged on the wheel again and again.
"It's okay. I'll call for a tow truck." Terra said.
"No, I can fix this piece of junk."
Bryan
tried to open the door but when it wouldn't budge he threw a kick at it, dislodging whatever had it stuck and stepped out into the haze.