Resistance (40 page)

I take a cursory glance at the two maps Gran
mentioned, fold everything back up carefully and slide it back in
the envelope, all the while trying hard to compose my face into a
semblance of calm. Gran was a much more powerful Seer than she ever
let on and I don’t know where to start with this letter. It’s all
too much right now. I force myself to breathe deeply and blink
tears out of my eyes. I clear my throat and finally raise my eyes
to Flint’s. His are filled with pity and I look away, unable to
deal with that on top of the emotional overload I’m experiencing
right now.

Instead I stand, stuff the envelope into the back
pocket of my jean shorts and rub my palms on my thighs. “If you’ll
come with me, I’ll show you that memory book.” Flint looks like
he’d like to say something, but instead he just nods and gets up.
He takes my hand and follows me down the hall to my bedroom.

Through my bedroom window I can see the sun starting
to set. I cross to my dresser, open the third drawer down and pull
out a ratty pair of baby blue, plaid boxer shorts and then move to
the top drawer where I retrieve a navy camisole. I take the
envelope from my back pocket and leave it on top of the dresser.
Flint settles himself on the edge of my bed and watches my every
move. He’s waiting for me to break, I’m sure, but I have no
intention of making a further spectacle of myself tonight. So I
smile at him over my shoulder. “I’ll be right back. I just want to
get changed.” Then I duck into my bathroom without waiting for a
response.

I take my time washing up and let my lavender scented
soap work its magic; washing away the tension and sadness that have
taken hold of me since I read Gran’s letter. Then I release my hair
from the elastic holding it in a messy bun and brush it until it
shines; letting it hang in loose waves that reach my hips. Once I
change my clothes I feel almost human again. I look in the mirror
and find my eyes are still huge, but my face isn’t quite so pale as
before. That will have to do, I think, and exit the bathroom to
tackle the next emotional minefield.

I find Flint sitting back in the middle of my bed
reclining against my pillows, and I can’t hold back a tired smile.
I like seeing him there. He grins back at me and asks, “Are you
sure you’re all right, love?” I nod, so he beckons me closer with
his fingers and I grin but stay where I am, leaning against the
bathroom door. “I think you should get the book your Gran wanted
you to show me and then come here to me,” he says; waggling his
eyebrows suggestively at me.

I can’t help but laugh at his expression. “That
sounds lovely.” I kneel in front of the hope chest at the foot of
the bed, open it up and dig around until I find the book in
question. It has been in this chest since the night Gran died, and
I can’t say I had any intention of ever looking at it again. It
hurts too much to remember. I sigh and stand up, then close the lid
and hold the memory book up for Flint to see. He sits up and pats
the space in front of him, silently inviting me to come sit with
him.

I climb into bed and situate myself next to him, but
he shifts so he’s sitting behind me instead. He wraps his arms
around me and pulls me to him so my back is against his chest. He
moves my hair out of his way and then I feel his chin on my
shoulder before he kisses my cheek. “See, this is much nicer. Let’s
take a look at this book now.”

I open the book and lay it on the bed in front of me
so we can both see it, and start telling him about Gran’s family.
We flip through the book to see her grow up with her brothers and
sister and watch my resemblance to her grow exponentially. I tell
him about her brothers, who my Dolan cousins are named for and her
twin sister, Aoife who gave me my middle name. Flint keeps one arm
wrapped around my middle, anchoring me to him, while the other
plays idly with the ends of my hair. We get to Gran’s wedding
picture and see Granddad sliding a ring on her finger, smiling down
into her eyes like he’s the luckiest man on the planet. Flint’s
hand moves to the chain around my neck and down to the ring hanging
from it. “This was hers?” he asks.

“It was her mother’s, too. She gave it to me on my
ninth birthday…said one day I would pass it on to a daughter of my
own.” I sound wistful and begin to ramble, hoping he missed the
tone. “I guess she told Dad he could have it for his wife, but then
changed her mind when he asked for it. I think my mom was always
jealous that I ended up with it.” I clear my throat. “Anyhow, yes,
this was hers.” I turn the page and try to ignore the burning in my
face.

Flint chuckles and kisses my shoulder. “You never
know, love.” And I shiver at the contact and at the hope that
spikes through me with the thought of being able to have a family
of my own someday. I bite my lip to keep from turning to him and
focus instead on the book in front of us; waiting for something to
show me why Gran wanted him to see it.

We make it through the rest of the album without
further incident and I’m about to close the book, feeling like this
was a monumental, emotionally exhausting waste of time, when Flint
reaches out and pulls a piece of paper from between the last page
of the book and the back cover. “What’s this?” He asks. I gasp as I
remember Gran’s last words to me.

“For you, dove. Keep it safe. You’ll need it one
day,” I murmur and watch as Flint unfolds the paper to reveal my
grandmother’s handwriting. “Oh, not another one,” I blurt; seeing
her pet name for me scrawled across the top. I can’t handle another
missive from my dead grandmother right now. I will be sobbing in no
time. “This must have been what she was talking about that night.”
I look, but I can’t make heads or tails of what she was trying to
tell me as I read it. I look at Flint and he seems just as confused
as I am.

It isn’t until I read it again that I see what is
really going on. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Gran!” I exclaim. I turn
to Flint, feeling tired all the way down in my bones and tell him,
“It’s a riddle.”

Chapter 26—Fi

August 2102

Early morning sunlight filters through the window in
the kitchen as I finish off my third cup of coffee of the day and
prepare to start the rest of my chores. I’ve already moved four
loads of laundry through the washer and dryer. Now there are herbs
to be organized and catalogued and some ointments and salves that
need to be made. With a start, I realize I’ll have to start brewing
thistle tea again as a precaution now that I have a man in my life.
My mother called it a safety net; it’s basically a brew that will
prevent pregnancy if taken before any ‘activity’. My mother used to
brew it for me once a week from the time I was twelve when she
deemed me ‘woman enough’. She would watch while I drank it down.
The stuff is vile but necessary, as I can’t picture being a mother
at this point. I don’t want my children growing up in a world full
of fear and slavery.

I also have to prepare vegetables for freezing for
the winter season, and so many other things that my head starts to
spin a little just thinking about it all. I remind myself that now
is the best time to do these things, since school will be starting
in a few weeks and I’ll have a million things to do to prepare for
that, too. I was the one who said I could handle teaching and
running our community, after all. Not that I really had a choice. I
blow out an exasperated breath and shake my head to clear the
useless thoughts running through it.

I am starting a fresh pot of coffee (I’ll need the
caffeine to get through the day) when I hear the back door open.
Startled, I look over and see Eir and Uncle Seamus standing there
in the doorway, both of them looking unusually solemn.

“Wow, what are you doing up, Eir? It’s barely eight.”
I add water to the reservoir in the coffee machine and flip the
switch on before I turn back to the two of them. “Do you guys want
coffee?”

My brother’s voice is calm, but there is a sense of
urgency in his words when he says, “Fi, where’s Flint?” I feel
dread settle in my stomach.

“He’s still sleeping.”

My brother crosses the room and says into my ear.
“Okay, you need to come with us and not ask any questions right
now.” I look up at his face and nod, and then let him pull me
across the kitchen and out the back door. We are a block away,
heading towards the park when he finally speaks again. “Sorry for
the drama, but I’m not sure how good his hearing is and I wanted to
show you before he found out.”

“Found out what? What’s going on, you two?” I ask.
They are both upwards of six feet tall to my five feet-two inches
and normally I can keep pace with them fine, but right now I have
to half-jog to keep up with them as they lead me to the path where
I normally run each morning.

“Just ahead, lass,” Seamus says and I grit my teeth
and keep moving forward. When we reach the tree where Eir and I
first saw Flint in fox form, they break from the path and move
towards the shrubs and grass surrounding the tree.

“Careful,” Eir says. He pulls some branches aside and
points at the ground. “We found this.” I look down at the ground
and see, just barely hidden amongst the greenery, a huge bear-sized
trap made completely of iron. It is obviously handmade and not
something we would use to catch food. This is an illegal weapon, as
far as I’m concerned. The size of the trap leads me to believe the
person who crafted it didn’t care if they caught a human or animal
in it…and the only person who would be affected by the iron and can
manifest in two forms is Flint. I don’t need to hear Eir’s next
words to know who is responsible for this. “It was Sean, Fi. I just
— I know — it was Sean. He’s trying to get rid of Flint.”

I feel rage start to boil in my veins as my brother’s
words sink in. I’ve been lenient with my cousin for far too long.
His prejudice has reached new heights and I simply can’t abide
this. He’s done more than defy a direct order this time; he’s
broken our law and he’s betrayed my trust. I look at the iron death
trap on the ground and steel myself to do what I must. The time has
definitely come for action to be taken. I look up to see my brother
and uncle looking at me and realize I haven’t spoken yet.

“Don’t move that trap. I don’t want him to know we’ve
found it before we have a chance to take care of this,” I say, and
the lack of emotion in my voice chills even me. I glance up to see
my uncle looking concerned, but I keep going. “We can’t just exile
him, because he knows too much about us. We’re going to have to
execute him — family or not.”

“You’ll get no argument from me. What can I do to
help?” Seamus asks, which surprises me a little.

“Honestly I don’t want to discuss it here. It’s too
open. Did Sean show up for his shift on the border this morning?” I
ask my uncle. He nods and I continue. “Okay, so let’s go back to
the house and we’ll plan…” I trail off as I remember Flint asleep
in my bed. “Crap — okay, we can’t go to our house. You guys go back
to your house, Uncle Seamus. I’ll convince Flint to stay in at our
house today, and alert the guard out back to let us know if he sees
Sean. I’ll meet you guys there.”

Without waiting for a response, I turn to leave;
already going through ideas on how to convince Flint that he wants
to stay indoors today. Under different circumstances I’d welcome
his help in handling things, but this is his life in jeopardy and I
cannot let anything happen to him. I’ve considered tying him up,
drugging him and several other very bad ideas and discarded them
all by the time I reach my backyard. I could try to seduce him, I
suppose, but I really don’t trust my feminine wiles. Mostly because
I’ve never tried to use them before. It’s just not an area I’m
particularly adept in. At all.

Inspiration hits as I’m closing the back door behind
me. I kick my sandals off and force myself to take a breath. If I
go barreling in like this Flint will know something is up as soon
as he looks at me. He will undoubtedly be upset with me later for
not telling him what’s going on, but I can’t help feeling he’s
safest in the dark for now. All of this will be over very soon, I
tell myself. I make my steps light as I poke my head in his room,
just to be sure he’s not already up. The bed is made but that’s no
surprise, as Flint has been sleeping in my room lately. I backtrack
and pause to catch my breath outside my door. I cannot fail. I turn
the knob slowly and slip inside my room. It’s still and peaceful,
and a slight breeze ruffles the light blue curtains.

Flint is lying on his back in the middle of the bed,
almost exactly where I left him this morning when I woke up. His
quiet breathing and the pounding of my heart are the only sounds in
the room and I cross to the bed; climbing in carefully. I stay on
my knees and crawl over to his side to look down on his sleeping
face. It hits me suddenly just how much I love this man, and my
heart constricts a little in my chest. I can’t lose him. The urge
to run my fingers through his hair pulls at me and just when I am
about to give in, he says, “Enjoying the view, love?” and I start
in surprise.