Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) (22 page)

Chapter
36

Strain

Tastes like: A hard, sticky
chocolate éclair.

Smells like: An overloaded
DB board.

Sounds like: A violin string
played at the wrong angle.

Feels like: Standing on
your tip-toes, trying to reach the top shelf.

Looks
like: A man lifting a dumbbell at the gym.

The sun is not yet above the horizon as Tristan tucks me into the Beamer,
and we start our journey back to Aylburton, without saying goodbye to his
parents. I know he would have preferred to wait for them to wake, and also to let
me sleep in a bit longer, but Kent was insistent that we leave at this ungodly
hour. His phone keeps ringing and beeping, even as we drive through the tall wrought
iron gates that mark the entrance to Abbey manor. He doesn’t answer but it’s
evident that the calls and texts have him on edge. I have my own suspicions
about who is trying so desperately to get through to him, since Tristan
confiscated my own phone last night already...
 

The ride back to Aylburton is conducted mainly in silence, except
for the argument that ensues when Tristan suggests we stop for breakfast about
an hour into the drive. Kent puts up such a fuss about the delay, we end up
stopping only long enough for Tristan to rush into the garage-store for some
stale donuts, which we eat while driving. The closer we get to Aylburton though,
the better I feel but I’m not going to try and dissect why.

The front door to Nan’s flies open as we grind to a halt on the
gravel driveway and before I can even reach for the car door handle, it is
wrenched open by a rather disheveled looking Kael.

‘What the hell happened? Why didn’t you answer your phone? Are you
okay?’ He pulls me gently from the car and sets my feet on the ground, his eyes
scanning the length of me.

‘I wish everyone would stop asking me that,’ I groan.

Kael ignores my complaint and gives me a searching look.

‘Was it another attack?’

I nod once. ‘But I’m fine now.’

He stares at me for a while longer, as though trying to determine the
truth of my words and then turns his attention to Kent, who is unpacking the
suitcases from the trunk of the car.

‘What took you so long? You should’ve been here hours ago and why didn’t
you answer my calls?’

Kent pauses and looks at me, avoiding his brother’s eyes.

‘We only left this morning.’

Kael glares at him. ‘But I gave you strict instructions -’

‘Shaylee needed to rest,’ Tristan interrupts, stepping into Kael’s
line of vision. ‘I wasn’t prepared to put her through that long trip in her
condition.’

‘That wasn’t your decision to make,’ Kael growls, transferring his
gaze to Tristan. ‘You know the rules.’

‘The rules changed when you decided to
outsource
her protection,’ Tristan shoots back, unflinching.

For a breathless moment, I see thunder roll into Kael’s eyes and I’m
sure he is going to throttle Tristan, but he straightens, glances at me and
says in a deceptively quiet voice: ‘Well they’ve changed again.
I’m
her
seastnan
. What I say goes.’

Tristan’s jaw clenches and my heart gives a little skip.

‘This isn’t a game, Kael,’ he says, striding up to him until they are
standing, chest to chest, glaring at one another. ‘You can’t just change the
rules when you feel like it.’

‘I can do whatever I want.’

‘Damnit, there are lives at stake here! She’s my fiancée!’

Tristan’s face turns beet-red and he shoves Kael backwards, against
the side of the car.

‘She’s
my
responsibility!’

Kael pushes back, hard against Tristan’s chest and he stumbles back.

‘Stop! Please,’ I beg, throwing myself between the two boys.

Both of them stand, shoulder’s tensed, chests rising and falling
rapidly, but they pause and look at me.

‘Just stop fighting, please,’ I say tiredly. The earth sways beneath
my feet and I close my eyes against the disconcerting sensation.

Kael immediately steps forward to steady me.

‘I thought you said you were feeling fine.’

‘I was,’ I say, ‘I just – Ugh, what’s wrong with me?’
 

‘You’re completely pale,’ Tristan observes, ‘I’ll take you inside.’
He steps toward me but Kael is a step ahead, as he sweeps me into his arms.

‘Like I said, she’s
my
responsibility.’

‘Don’t, please, Tristan.’ I say, trying to focus my eyes on his hazy
face. ‘Just go.’ He clenches his jaw, looks from me, to Kael and back, and nods,
once but as Kael walks toward the porch with me in his arms, I can feel
Tristan’s gaze, following us.

‘Why is this happening to me?’ I demand, as I pace before Nan’s
chair in the downstairs, formal lounge. I’ve slept a full twelve hours since
Kael tucked me into bed this morning, and I’m feeling more like myself, but
extremely restless. ‘Why do I keep passing out like this?’

Nan’s eyes follow me, back and forth across the room.

‘I wish we knew.’

‘It has to have something to do with the mark,’ I say, almost to
myself. I stop suddenly and look at Nan. ‘That poem you spoke about at the
Circle meeting - the stuff about the…virgin blood…where did it come from? Is
there more?’

She shakes her head.

‘It comes from the old texts and there’s nothing more about the
promised one – believe me, I’ve looked.’

‘There must be
someone
who
knows something? What about the
Tanistry
?’

Nan shakes her head again and I throw my hands up in the air.

‘God, this has to stop! This isn’t me – I’m not some stupid girl who
faints for no reason. I can’t take it anymore!’

Part of me wants to slide to my knees, cover my face with my hands
and cry, but I’m stronger than that. I have to be. So I latch onto the anger
inside instead, let it well up until it swallows the tears at the back of my
throat.

‘This is all her fault,’ I say. ‘She never should have sent me here!’

‘Who? Your mother?’ Nan gives me an incredulous look. ‘You’re being
irrational, Shaylee. You know she had no choice.’

‘Of course she did. She
chose
to leave England when I was seven and she
chose
to send me back here.’

I expect Nan to reply in her usual, soft and rational tone, so I’m taken
aback when she turns on me, eyes flashing and voice quivering.

‘Don’t you dare blame your mother, Shaylee Greene! You think she
wanted any of this? You have no idea what she sacrificed for you!’

I gape at Nan as she turns and stalks from the room.

Chapter
37

Warmth

Tastes like: Hot-cross buns

Smells like: Lavender and
wool

Sounds like: Your mother’s
voice

Feels like: A hug

Looks
like: A polar-fleece baby-blanket

It’s the middle of the night, and I’m awake, in my usual
spot on the window seat, head against the pane, staring out across the hedges toward
Kael’s house, where his light still burns.

I can’t stop thinking about what Nan said. She hasn’t
spoken to me since this morning when she stormed out. I’ve been wracking my
brain, trying to figure out what she meant. As far as I’m concerned though, the
only one who sacrificed anything with the move from Aylburton to South Africa
and then back again, is me.
I’m
the
pawn that keeps getting shipped around the board, the only one who doesn’t
share in the secrets – and there are more of those than I’d realized. I feel
like I’m in a pinball machine, getting shoved around, utterly helpless as everyone
around me cranks the levers.

Kael’s light flickers off in the house next door and I
sigh. Great. It doesn’t seem fair that he should be able to sleep when I can’t;
after all, he is one of the reasons for my sleeplessness. Was he always this
restless or is it my presence that keeps him up at night?

With a frustrated growl, I drag the duvet back across to
my bed and flop down sideways on it. I need to stop thinking about the mess
that is my life right now, so I grab my tablet from the bedside table and flip
to one of the novels I’m reading. It’s what Jenne calls a ‘trashy novel’ – a
romance that requires very little concentration. I immerse myself in the pages.
 
  
 
 

Even from this
distance, the heat from the fire was scorching but I paid no heed to it. I
could see him through the smoke and I knew with gut-wrenching certainty that he
was in danger – because of me.

My head was
pounding and each step I took sent shafts of pain through my entire body but I
forced myself to place one foot in front of the other, until my knees gave in,
and then I began to crawl. It didn’t matter that my vision had become as black
as the starless night sky or that my body cried out with each agonizing
movement - only that I had to get to him.

My sight cleared
and blurred in alternating flashes of light and darkness but in one lucid
second, I saw him, crouched low against the outline of flames. I cried out to
him in the same instance I felt the arms close around me and he turned,
momentarily distracted by my cry.

The hands pulled me
back as the world went black again and I cried out with frustration. I had to get
there.

Another flash of
blurred vision brought him into focus. He was coming toward me, eyes dark and
focused on me when they should have been turned to the shadow at his back.
‘Turn around!’ I tried to scream but no sound escaped my parched lips.

My heart stopped
as the figure behind him crouched, ready to spring, and I let loose a
blood-curdling scream.

‘No!’

I kicked
frantically against the arms that held me and felt the breath leave my body as
excruciating pain shot through my stomach. My hands clutched at the source of
pain and came away, warm and sticky as I struggled for air.

‘Breathe,’ a voice
said inside me, ’you have to breathe.’

‘Breathe, Shaylee!’ Disoriented, I thrash against the
muscular arms locked around me, until Kael’s familiar voice soaks into my
consciousness. I stop fighting and collapse into him, drawing in deep, cleansing
breaths that, despite my best efforts, soon turn to sobs. I cling to him, like
a frightened child and he holds me, gently stroking my hair as I sob against
his chest.

‘It was just a dream,’ he says but I shake my head vehemently
and pull away to look up at him with tear-streaked cheeks.

‘It wasn’t a dream. I remember.’

He frowns and traces the salt-tracks down my face with
his eyes.

‘I remember,’ I repeat, in a broken whisper. ‘That
night, I woke up, I saw the fire outside my window and heard the fighting. I
went to look for mom and dad, but they were gone. Then I saw you through the
window and I was so scared…’

‘Sshh,’ Kael says as my voice breaks, ‘it was a long
time ago. It’s over now.’

‘It’s not over!’ I cry. ‘It will never be over! People died
that night, your parents died – because of me – because of this!’

I pull the hem of my tank-top away from my stomach and
glare down at the offensive mark. The outline, once a light grey, is now a deep
navy hue, raised like a fresh welt. It is throbbing painfully, although not as
intensely as in my dream. In my
memory
.

The recollection is so vivid in my mind now that I can’t
imagine how I ever could have thought it was just a dream. I can smell the
burning grass, taste the ash, and see Kael cradling his father’s limp body
against him.

‘It’s all my fault!’ I clutch my arms around my middle
and rock myself backwards and forwards. I want to erase it all, that night so
many years ago, the deaths, the marking. I want to wash away the blood stains
on my hands. But I can’t because now I know the truth.
I’m the reason Kael’s parents are dead.
 

‘Stop it Shaylee, you’re not responsible,’ Kael says in
a tight voice.

I want to believe him so desperately, but I know it’s
not true. I
am
responsible for the
death of his parents. Singularly, completely, irreversibly responsible. My
breath hitches. Kael frowns and stretches one hand out toward me but I scramble
back away from him.

How can he even think of touching me, the girl who has
destroyed his life? I don’t even deserve to be in the same room with him. I
curl my fingers into my palms and press hard, until half-moons of blood well up
from the skin, but the pain isn’t enough to dull the guilt.

‘They came for
me
,
they wanted
me
. I’m responsible Kael,
I’m the reason your parents are dead.’

My bedroom door flies open and Nan rushes inside, looking
pale and wraith-like in her white bathrobe.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asks, glancing at the window, then
fastening her gaze on me. ‘Shaylee, are you okay?’ She reaches toward me but I
put both hands out, palm up to stop her. She freezes and I hear the intake of
breath from both her and Kael before he grabs my wrists, his grip vice-like
even as I try to pull away. He stares at the blood on my palms.

‘You need to calm down,’ he says sternly but I shake my
head violently and curl my fingernails back into the grooves I’ve made.

Kael curses and snatches at my hands, forcing my fingers
open.

‘She’s remembering,’ he says over his shoulder to where
Nan stands, wide-eyed and frozen. The words seem to spur her into action.
Without a word, she turns and hurries back out of the room.

I feel my body start to shake and tears roll down my
cheeks, blurring my vision until all I can see is Kael’s arms around his
father’s body. I hear voices, chanting: ‘
Tofa
,’
and I know it’s me they’re calling for.
 

Kael puts one hand on my shoulder and I flinch away.

‘No,’ I say, shaking my head over and over, ‘No, no,
no.’

With another colorful curse, he pulls me into his lap
and clamps his arms around me. I resist, unable to think but he holds me
tightly against his chest. I feel a tiny prick in the crook of my arm and
liquid exhaustion flows up from my arm to my heart, turning my muscles to dead
weight. Relaxation flows down to my toes and rises to my face, into my lips, my
cheeks and my eyelids…