Silver Dew (14 page)

“Dad!” I cried, snapping out of my furious, trance-like state.

“Gordon!” Dahlia yelled as my father suddenly slumped backwards, unconscious and unmoving. I stared at him in horror. What had I done?

Chapter Six – Taking Flight

I watched in horror as my father’s legs buckled and he dropped backwards into his chair, the recliner creaking and groaning from the sudden impact. Sweat covered his pale, gray skin and his lips were strangely colorless. The surge of anger and power that had swelled through my body and mind moments before was abruptly extinguished. A new panic set in.

“Oh, God, he’s had a heart attack! Oh my, God!” Dahlia cried, frantically running for the phone.

“Wait!” Sebastian instructed her, his voice firm and commanding. Dahlia froze in her tracks. “I think he just fainted. He’s already starting to come around.”

Dahlia rushed back to my father’s side and we all watched as his color quickly returned and his shallow breathing resumed to a more normal pace. My father’s eyelids flew open and he stared into each of our faces in confusion, his eyes darting back and forth between us.

“What… what just happened to me?” he demanded. His eyes focused on my face. “Grace? Is that you? What are you doing here?”

I paused, unsure of how to answer but no one else volunteered to speak for me.

“I, umm… Sebastian and I were in Toronto. We came to ask you for some help, remember?” I prompted uncertainly.

“But we don’t need to talk about that now,” Dahlia dismissed, giving me a stern look. To all of our surprise though my father shook his head, brushing Dahlia’s fluttering hands aside and sitting up a bit straighter.

“That’s right - I remember. I was just a little… confused for a moment. Of course, I remember. The passports, the plane tickets… I’ll have it all taken care of by morning.”

We all gaped at him, shocked and stunned into silence. For once, Sebastian was just as speechless as I.

“Hunny, I think you need to go to the hospital. You collapsed – you might have had a heart attack or a stroke, and now you’re not making any sense,” Dahlia fretted, the furrow above her smoothly arched brows deepening by the second.

“Nonsense!” my father declared, standing up and shaking off her hands when she tried to support him. “I feel fine. I just got a little hot-headed there for a moment. I’m not sure what came over me but of course I’ll help you Gracie. I can’t say I understand what’s really going on but if you need my help, I’ll give it to you and I don’t need or want to know any more than that.”

I blinked, still stunned. I struggled to regain the ability to speak.

“Um… thanks, Dad. I really, really, really appreciate your change of heart. I wouldn’t ask you for help if there were another way…”

“Of course not. I know that, dear. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have quite a few phone calls to make. If you want to be on the next flight to Ireland, I’m going to have to call in some favors and wake up a few important people, but we’ll get you on the very next plane,” my father gruffly assured me. He gave my shoulder a heavy pat as he walked past me and even gave Sebastian a grudging nod before going into the small bedroom at the rear of the apartment, cell phone in hand and fingers already dialing.

Dahlia stared at us wide-eyed for a moment before hurrying into the bedroom after him and quickly closing the door.

Sebastian sat down heavily on the couch, his fingers pressed against his temples. I dropped down beside him and we both silently contemplated our thoughts, Sebastian slowly massaging circles into his brow.

“What just happened?” I eventually asked him, feeling strangely calm – almost numb. At first I didn’t think he was going to answer me. He just shook his head and pushed his fingers harder against his skull. I tried to wait patiently for his response but it was difficult when I could feel the seconds ticking away against us. He suddenly began speaking, his voice soft and barley audible, his eyes tightly closed still.

“It’s not possible to force someone to do or feel something against their natural will. Your magic shouldn’t be strong enough - you told me so yourself.”

A cold chill rippled down my spine, my heart brittled by its frost.

“But… you think I did,” I stated, my voice flat and emotionless. I knew we had to both face the truth, there was no avoiding it this time. “He didn’t want to help us, but I made him. I forced my father to do what I wanted, didn’t I?” My voice shook a little at the end, the guilt and fear quickly threatening to overwhelm me. I desperately tried to push it aside but tears already stung my eyes.

Sebastian looked at me then, the pain in my voice reflected in the intensity of his eyes.

“No, you didn’t – you couldn’t have forced him to help us if a part of him didn’t really want to. You would never have wanted to force him against his will,” he quickly reassured me, his doubt vanishing. He brushed the loose curls back from my face and studied me cautiously, my own sadness and pain now burning in the dark depths of his eyes. “There has to be an explanation, Gracelynn. Maybe your father had conflicting wants and you just helped tip the balance. Or maybe the proximity of the Others and their wants influenced what went on here,” he suggested. He leant forward to sweetly kiss my lips. My eyes slowly cleared, my heart wanting so badly to believe his words. He kissed me again slowly, gently and my heart beat faster. His lips lingered on mine and I leant into him. I desperately needed him to help me forget what I may or may not have just done. I needed him to love me, regardless, and to remind me of who I really was.

“Ahem,” Dahlia cleared her throat nosily as she reentered the room.

We broke apart, my cheeks dusted with embarrassment. Sebastian was as calm and collected as ever, merely smiling in amusement at the interruption or perhaps at my guilty blush.

“I think Gordon’s going to be up most of the night on the phone. He’s adamant that he get you on a morning flight, direct to Ireland. I think he believes your lives really do depend on it,” she added, eyeing us both strangely as she came to sit down.

“They do,” Sebastian answered solemnly. He stared back at her unflinchingly. It was no surprise when Dahlia was the first to look away.

“I don’t know why, but I’m starting to believe you too. This is all just so bizarre!” she declared with a shake of her head, her messy curls bouncing off her cheekbones.

“Tell me about it,” I quietly agreed. Sebastian smiled and squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry to put you and Dad through this Dahlia. I hope to make it up to you one day.”

“He’s your father, Grace. No matter what he said before, he really does want to help you now and he won’t have it any other way.” A fresh wave of guilt hit me, causing me to drop my eyes in shame. Sebastian gave my hand another gentle squeeze. “You two might as well try and get some rest while you can. I’ll get you some blankets and you can lie down on the couches – separate couches, mind you.” Dahlia’s small mouth twitched into a near smile.

“Of course,” Sebastian agreed. I wondered if he meant it.

Dahlia went back to the bedroom for some blankets. I heard her soft voice briefly murmuring in response to my father’s hearty bass as he was apparently between phone calls. It looked like she was fighting a smile as she came back out.

“Here are some blankets for you. You’ll have to use the cushions as pillows I’m afraid. Sebastian, Gordon would like a word with you. Grace, why don’t you help me to make up the beds while the men have their chat?”

Oh no, I thought, my stomach dropping. Sebastian smiled reassuringly at me though, looking totally unsurprised. He stepped around Dahlia with a calm and confident smile, much to Dahlia’s obvious disappointment.

“I’ll be back shortly,” he told me with a quick and cheeky wink before he bravely stepped into the bedroom, the door closing quietly behind him.

I wanted to eavesdrop and listen at the door but I knew I couldn’t with Dahlia still present. She started chatting away, perhaps trying to set me at ease but really she only added to my discomfort as I had no chance of overhearing anything now.

When we finished turning the couches into two makeshift beds, we each sat down upon one and Dahlia flicked on the TV. My eyes kept wandering to the kitchen clock. It was nearly fifteen minutes later that Sebastian finally emerged, his face a little pale, his expression slightly worn but overall, he appeared to be well-enough. I hadn’t heard any shouting so it obviously couldn’t have been that bad… I hoped.

Dahlia quickly said good night and went back into the bedroom, my father’s loud voice clearly audible once more as he grumbled into his cell phone – he certainly didn’t seem too pleased. Sebastian kicked off his shoes and lay down on the couch, pulling one of the fleecy blankets over him. I sighed in exasperation as he closed his eyes.

“You’re really going to pretend to sleep?”

He smiled in response but didn’t open his eyes.

“What did my father want to talk to you about?”

He shrugged. “Oh, the usual. He wanted to know what my intentions were, if I would be able to keep you safe while we’re overseas and he wanted to make sure I understood that if I ever put you in harm’s way again he would rip me to pieces with his own hands.”

“Oh, that’s all?” I replied, my tone coolly nonchalant as I curled up under my own blanket on the loveseat.

Sebastian chuckled, his eyes finally opening. “I believe him too – he’s one of the most determined people I’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering. It looks like we’ll be out of the country tomorrow morning. It’s going to be close but I think we’re going to make it. Your father really does have connections everywhere; he’s already booked us on a 7am flight and he’s just working out the details of our documents now. We’re going to make it to Ireland at least twenty-four hours before the Others do, maybe even more.”

My heart sank. I’d been so focused on the goal of getting to Ireland, I’d almost forgotten that the Others would just as easily follow and chase us there. “Will we ever be able to stop running?” I asked him quietly.

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “We’ll find the answers we’re looking for in Ireland, I know we will. You’ll regain full control and use of your magic, and then we’ll find a way to stop the Others. They’ll never be a threat to us again.”

It sounded so easy. All I had to do was master my ability and find a way to take away the magic that the Others had possessed for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Deep down I knew that it would never be that simple. I feared that there really might not be a happy ending for us but I didn’t dare to speak the thought out loud, knowing my pessimism would only upset Sebastian.

I turned the TV off and closed my eyes, listening to the soft and steady rhythm of Sebastian’s breathing and the surprisingly comforting sound of my father’s deep and muffled voice through the wall.

“Good night,” I sighed sleepily, surprised by how heavy my eyelids suddenly felt. All of the stress and emotion of the past few days, not to mention the physical exertion of trying to outrun the Others, was taking its toll.

I barely heard Sebastian’s mumbled response as I tumbled into sleepy darkness.

“G’night… Caoilinn… my love.”

We were woken at four am by my father himself. He announced that all the arrangements had been made and it was time to go. He would take us to pick up our travel documents on the way to the airport and then we would board a 7am flight to Manchester in the United Kingdom. We would stop there for a brief one hour cross over before continuing on to Belfast City Airport in Northern Ireland, the destination that apparently Sebastian had requested. We would arrive in Ireland about 6:30pm local time that very night.

Before I knew it, all four of us were riding through the relatively quiet early morning streets of Toronto, the tall buildings and bright lights whizzing by us in a blur of shadows and lights.

I had expected we would be picking up our forged documents in a seedier part of town so I was surprised when we approached an expensive, upper-class, residential area. My father brought the car to a stop on the road in front of a large white house where he quickly went up to the front door and exchanged an envelope stuffed full of money for a larger manila envelope that had been tucked beneath the doormat. When he returned to the car, he quickly looked through the envelope’s contents before handing it back wordlessly to Sebastian. He smoothly made a broad U-turn and within moments we were headed back in the direction that we had come from.

I stared in wonder at the perfect replicas of my passport and birth certificate (luckily I already had my credit cards and driver’s license) that the large envelope contained. Sebastian seemed amused by his own documentation, whispering to me about how my father had somehow come up with his school photo for the doctored ID. We were both tense and nervous though as we approached Toronto’s Pearson International Airport. The Others were all close enough now that even I could sense the danger that sparked through the air like an electric shock and no matter how convincing the documents appeared to our eyes, I was afraid that they still might not fool the airport staff and customs officers.

“I don’t know how I can begin to thank you for this, Dad. We’ll repay you somehow – we’ll make it up to you,” I assured him as we got out of the car, my meager “luggage” on my back.

“Call me – let me know you’re alright,” he instructed,. “And once this is all over with, I expect you to come visit us in Toronto, properly, before you begin university, of course.” He eyed me somewhat suspiciously as he spoke and I suddenly found myself fighting a smile.