Fearless Magic (10 page)

“The best airline? The best airline is Air Gabriel of course,” Gabriel grinned at me, finally moving on. “We'll take my plane, it will be easier.”

“Sure, why not,” I said, still smarting from the cell phone debacle. “Am I the only Immortal that doesn't own a private plane?” I asked sarcastically as we walked out of the church, leaving the still sanctuary behind us and following Gabriel through the crowded streets of Urubamba.

“Maybe,” Jericho smiled at me, taking my hand and pulling me along so that we wouldn't get separated.

“Probably,” I heard Gabriel mumble and had to laugh.

Things were certainly going to be more interesting with him along for the ride.

Chapter Nine

I stepped out of the tiny airplane, thankful to be alive. I was sure that Gabriel's private plane would resemble something more like a luxury jet than a rinky-dink little thing that putted its way across the Atlantic Ocean, only kept alive by magic and a ridiculous amount of prayer from me.

I offered one last petition of thanksgiving, before stepping down from the rope latter Gabriel lowered for me. I looked around and breathed in the fresh French countryside. It was dusk, the sun was setting low in the West and the air was cool and crisp.

I wasn't exactly sure where we were, but Gabriel promised we would be safe once we landed. I wondered if there were places we could land that would make us not safe, but I kept my questions to myself over the long ride from Peru. I didn’t want to shout them over the loud, sputtering engine, or lose focus and forget to reinforce Gabriel's magic with my own, jointly holding the antique, tiny plane in the air.

The ground was hard underneath my feet, too hard after spending so much time bouncing around in what felt like a metal coffin over a depthless black ocean beneath us. I reached out for the belly of the plane to steady myself, while my equilibrium adjusted to solid concrete.

“Where are we?” I asked with a croaky voice and frayed nerves.

“Saint-Louis,” Gabriel answered, while checking his little-engine-that-could over inside and out.

“We're close to Switzerland and Germany here and a few hours from Paris,” Jericho offered, jumping down from the cockpit and smiling at me. “It's beautiful, isn't it?” he observed, looking out at the rolling farmland. The twilighted sun glowed with orange, pink and soft shades of purple on the horizon, sending fields of drooping sunflowers to sleep, and bathing the golden petals in soft light. “It's not the right season for sunflowers. It must be magic.”

“Yes, it is,” I sighed, leaning against Jericho. He stood still, letting me rest against him while we waited for Gabriel to finish his inspection of the plane and push it, with the help of his magic, into a white barn with a wide door.

Jericho helped Gabriel shut the large double doors, pushing them simultaneously together and latching them with a heavy iron lock. Gabriel brushed his hands together and then spun around on one heel, walking with purpose passed me and towards a dark house several yards away.

Jericho and I followed behind quietly. Maybe it was Gabriel's earlier comment, or the Titan kicking in, but I couldn't shake the feeling that here in France, we were in enemy territory. My blood prickled hot with the quick bursts of lightning, reminding me that I could not be as bold as I wanted. I had to be smart. I had to take things slowly if I wanted to accomplish my immense to-do list. I wasn't afraid of being caught, but not accomplishing my goals would leave me forever disappointed and guilty.

Gabriel searched quietly for a key buried in a flower bed to the right of a bright yellow door. The house itself was painted in soft yellow stucco that matched the setting sun perfectly. Flower pots dotted every window. They contained soil, but no flowers. A thick hedge that ran the length of the property boxed in the house on every side, except the back that opened to the barn and the fields of mystical sunflowers.

The house was perfectly still, and was obviously empty. Gabriel mumbled something about turning on the power and disappeared into the darkened house. Jericho and I waited patiently in the foyer for him to return.

“Is this Gabriel's house?” I asked, hoping we weren't breaking into some unsuspecting human's house with the promise to leave it better than we left. That plot felt too familiar to something Avalon would have come up with and I wasn't ready to deal with those emotions; I was too exhausted from the trip.

“It must be,” Jericho replied and I reminded myself that although Jericho was usually an expert on all things Immortal, we were experiencing Gabriel for the first time together.

For a moment the lights flickered above our heads and then came to life completely in the rooms surrounding us. I heard a generator kick on and roar to life and felt heat begin to flow gently from air vents at my feet.

“Hungry?” Gabriel called from deeper inside the house. Jericho and I followed the sound of his voice.

The small kitchen had just room enough for the usual appliances set up in a perfect square and opened to a table for four on the opposite side of the room. I walked to the table and collapsed onto one of the solid wood kitchen chairs, sighing heavily and silently refusing to be put to work for dinner just because I was the only girl.

Gabriel moved about the kitchen swiftly, opening and closing all of the cabinets rapidly searching for something to eat. He pulled several cans out of the different cabinets, lining them up on the counter and then stepping back to frown at them.

Clearly displeased, he went back to work, staring deeper into the cabinets and returning this time with a box of unopened rice and another one of lemon cookies.

“Well, this isn't much,” he muttered sadly, his trimmed eyebrows furrowed together in consternation as he stared at the mismatched food hoping they would cook themselves. “I don't know what we're going to do with this,” Gabriel gave in, running one hand over his closely shaved head and tugging at the collar of his tight priestly white square with the other hand.

“Ok, well let's see what we have here.” Jericho stood up with energy, walking over to the food as if it was the most exciting meal he had seen in a long time. “Canned corn, canned mushrooms, a can of gravy, green beans, pimento, rice and.... cookies. There's plenty here!” Jericho exclaimed, showing Gabriel politely to the table by putting a gentle but strong hand on his arm. “Have a seat; I’ve got this,” he declared proudly. He left Gabriel and I to talk while he rummaged around in the kitchen looking for the tools he needed to accomplish his difficult task.

“What is your plan after we find those Immortals that are here?” Gabriel asked, his orange eyes pensive and serious, burning darkerly at the moment, like a flame well into a long fire.

“To find more Immortals,” I replied plainly and then thought better of my short answered sarcasm. “Jericho and I know of at least three more teams of Resistance members stationed elsewhere across Africa and Southeast Asia, so we are hoping to get to them.” Gabriel nodded his acceptance of the plan, but continued to stare at me to imply he had more questions.

“And then what? What will you do when you've assembled this army?” he inquired of me seriously, his eyes flaring brightly at the use of the word, “army.”

“Romania,” I said simply. “There's a chance that my magic might work in the prisons and my first priority is to get to my brother. I have to save him before Lucan.... before Lucan gets impatient with me,” I finished softly.

“And what about Lucan? What is your plan for him?” Gabriel sat across from me at the small table, his hands folded in his lap and his eyes ablaze with intensity.

“I will have to kill him,” I whispered, the gravity of the words falling on me heavily. Of course I had to kill him, of course I had to end this, of course I wanted revenge, but it was not in my nature to want to take another life. I swallowed my fears and reservations, pushing them down and into a small place that I could ignore for a little while longer.

“Is he the one that finished Amory?” Gabriel sat forward, his jaw twitching with quiet rage at the mention of my grandfather's death.

“Yes,” I answered.

“So, if he owns Amory's magic, how do you propose to kill him? I have heard you are good, I have heard rumors about the strength of your magic. But, if Lucan possesses all the greatness that was Amory Saint, how do you, child, expect to end his life?” Gabriel sat forward abruptly, pounding his fist on the wooden table, demanding an answer.

“He doesn't possess
all
of Amory's magic,” I replied, sitting taller with pride and daring Gabriel to question my resolve again.

“What do you mean?” Jericho asked, turning from his place at the counter and walking over to stare at me directly.

“I was there when Amory.... when Amory died,” I forced the words out, scolding myself internally for letting those words continue to be so difficult to say. They were the truth. I had to be comfortable saying them, and instead of sadness, I needed to turn my emotions into fuel for this fight. “While he was dying, he took my hand and gave me everything that Lucan didn't take or couldn't take. At the time, it seemed like Amory was more in control than Lucan.”

“He did what?” Jericho asked, his arm falling limp at his side while holding a dirty wooden spoon.

“I want to say it was, at least, maybe half of his magic, maybe less, maybe more. I don't know, it's hard to tell. What I do know is that it was more magic than I have ever felt before, more than I've ever held. There was a lot of it, and as far as I could tell, Lucan didn't even notice that Amory was giving it to me.” I almost laughed, remembering how full of electricity my veins felt after he was finished.

“That is amazing!” Gabriel exclaimed, rising out of his chair and slapping me in the arm.

“That is really good news, Eden!” Jericho echoed Gabriel's excitement.

“Amory is still dead,” I reminded them, surprised by their enthusiasm.

“Yes, that is true, but now our quest doesn't feel quite so.... hopeless,” Gabriel answered with the same energy.

“Well, come on guys, you didn't really think I was going to, what? You didn't think I was just taking you to Romania so we could all die, did you?” I asked, horrified that they thought so little of my leadership skills, but a little flattered they were still willing to follow me there.

“I did,” Gabriel nodded his head quickly, “that's actually exactly what I thought.”

“Yep, me too,” Jericho patted me on the shoulder and walked back to the counter where he continued stirring his concoction on the stove.

“Guys, I'm not completely unprepared for this...” I muttered defensively. “Although, thanks for coming anyway?” I said more as a question than actual heart-felt gratitude.

“Well, a good cause and all,” Jericho mumbled from his place at the stove.

“I mean, you did tell me I had a responsibility to mankind and that I would single handedly be the reason for the downfall of our race if I didn't join you,” Gabriel agreed with Jericho and I burst into laughter. Apparently I was on a mission with two kamikaze-jokesters. “Well, then, Eden, you are the only one on this blue planet that will be able to kill the king,” Gabriel turned serious.

“Well, Avalon, too, once we rescue him and I give him his magic back. We share everything, as far as magic goes, so he'll have access to Amory's magic as well,” I explained confidently.

“So, your brother gave you his magic before he was taken away and now he is being held captive without it?” Gabriel asked, putting bits and pieces of conversations together.

Jericho walked over to the table, carrying three soup bowls in hand. He set the bowls on the table; the aroma drifted up and around us, making my stomach growl ferociously and warm my spirit with feelings of gratitude. Tonight we were safe, tonight we had a real, home cooked meal, and tonight we sat together, figuring out the future in allied camaraderie.

“Yes,” I mumbled through a mouthful of deliciously, hot food.

“But, why...?” Gabriel asked, his spoon hovering over his food. “Jericho didn't you say that you were brought to Peru for a trade, Lucan wanted to trade you for Avalon's magic?”

Jericho nodded, his mouth full of food.

“If Lucan has Amory's magic and in turn his immortality, why does he need Avalon's?” Gabriel continued his thought; I looked up at him, realizing this was a thought I should have been figuring out several days ago.

“For his son,” Jericho said simply and then took another bite. “He's dying.”

Gabriel was satisfied and began eating as well. I took another bite, but couldn't taste the food anymore. I made myself chew, I forced myself to swallow, but it was the last bite I could stomach. I lost my appetite and nearly my sanity.

The fierceness I felt to rescue Avalon was there, and the intense need to give him back his magic would never leave me. However, the sudden and unexpected feeling to protect Kiran blindsided me. I was paralyzed by a deep need to save him, to keep him from dying. The internal war between inevitable vengeance and a buried and what I had thought was a dead love fought violently inside of me and closed off my throat, staggered my breathing and tore apart my soul in inhumane ways.

Kiran was dying and I was suddenly determined to save him.

Chapter Ten