This ended up being a very long, very heartbreaking and terrifying chapter. For those of you who are aware of my baseball obsession, Phelan is (naturally!) the name of a player. I think it's an awesome name. Means "wolf" or something in Irish/Scottish. Not sure how that will come into play, but I bet it will. Thanks, NDBRs!
Giver27
For a long while I listened to the melody of wind in the trees and girls laughing. My hand was still warm where I'd held the girl by the arm. She'd felt like silk in my grasp…living, breathing silk.
And she'd terrified me like nothing else I'd ever known. But, it was a good terror. It fascinated me and frustrated me, this nameless sensation.
When I finally recovered my mask and dusted it off, I reluctantly followed the smell of smoke and the bright yellow licks of fire toward our camp. I heard my uncle's voice as well as the father of the two girls. They were still chasing one another, which had Girl in a terrible frenzy. She barked and whined at their antics and I heard the young tree I'd tied her to thrash about as she tugged on her leash.
"What do you intend to do with the boy?"
"Who? Erik?"
I froze no more than ten paces from the clearing. He made me sound like an animal that needed to be managed.
"Yes, the boy."
The Shadow sighed. "I'd hoped to be several days ahead by now in order to stop more frequently, but we're traveling to Paris."
"For what?" The man laughed as he questioned.
"My oldest son lives there." He grabbed hold of Girl's rope and pulled her toward him. The attention immediately silenced her and she licked his face.
The man grunted. "I heard your youngest son passed away. It saddened me to hear such news. You had much room in your heart for him."
I saw my uncle nod. His expression remained blank.
"What of the middle child?"
My uncle's eyes raised and met the other man's gaze. "What of him?" he snapped.
"Ah, you still don't speak to Phelan."
"I haven't seen him. If I saw him—"
"Would he speak to you? That's the better question."
My eyes narrowed. I had no idea he had three sons. He'd only spoken of two, as far as I could recall. Why hadn't he told me of his middle son?
"I gave him my blessing when he left my home. You act as though there is much to tell when there isn't."
The man shrugged. "Honestly, I had not expected to see you this far south. Ricard told me your health was poor."
The Shadow cocked his head to the side. "It is."
"Then why are you about in the middle of the night?"
"I could ask you the same question."
"Labor," he replied. "The last storm that went through the harbor killed business. Better off harvesting seaweed than fish." The man tossed a handful of twigs into the fire. "You have my excuse, old man, now where is yours?"
"I have no excuse. Merely duty."
"Sympathy?"
He hunched his shoulders and took a deep breath. "Sympathy implies that I pity Erik, which I do not. He needs no one's pity. He's strong, intelligent, and talented."
"You speak of him as you would an angel."
"So be it," The Shadow shrugged.
"Come, now, old man. What do you know of the boy? Honestly?"
"I know that he stands on the brink of a nightmare you and I have no way of ever comprehending."
The man stared at him blankly.
"I cannot give him riches and I cannot provide the world at his feet. I offer him company and directions to Paris. From there it is my hope that Joshua will allow him a place in his home."
"And Phelan?"
"I will write him a letter. Perhaps he now lives closer to Joshua. The more family he has around him, the better for Erik."
"Will your son accept a total stranger?"
"Erik is no stranger," The Shadow said. He said nothing more as he gazed up and met my eye.
I didn't cower or pretend that I hadn't overheard his conversation. I had a feeling that he'd known I was there from the moment I crept up and took my spot amongst the timber and brush.
The man, however, was startled by my presence and leapt up from the ground. He backed away immediately as though he feared I would infect him. My heart twisted in my chest but I ignored him and took a seat beside my dog, who wriggled with delight.
"Good night, Arthur," my uncle said. He glanced at me and smiled. "Watch your troublesome daughters. They threaten to wake the trees."
The man didn't say another word. He stalked off into the night, and once he was gone I felt drowsy.
"You've settled down, I see," he murmured.
I stifled a yawn. "A little," I disagreed.
He chuckled to himself. "It never fails to amaze me how you must always disagree on the most inconsequential details."
I smiled. "No, I don't."
"Never." He grinned and patted Girl's rump. "Now, allow an old man to sleep. The sun will rise before you know it."
He was right. My internal clock ticked erratically thanks to our constantly changing sleep habits. We traveled as my uncle could tolerate, which sometimes left us wandering through the night and other times saw us traveling in broad daylight. It didn't much matter to me when we traveled. The adventure was the same, the horizon always one I'd never seen before.
I slouched down until my back was against the ground and the dog was practically lying on my chest. She brought me comfort, and while she was beside me I slept soundly. No one had ever nudged me in order to draw closer, but Girl could not inch herself near enough.
"You saw his daughters, didn't you?" my uncle questioned softly.
"Yes," I answered.
He was silent for a long while and I thought he'd gone to sleep. "May I ask what happened?"
"She bumped into me."
"What were you doing?"
My cheeks burned. "Nothing."
"What happened to your hands?"
I glanced at the scratches along my knuckles, then turned my hand over and studied the dark blue stains along the creases in my palm.
"Eavesdropping?"
"No. I went for a walk. I found wild berries." I decided he didn't need to know what I did when I briefly stopped.
"You had better hope they hold their tongues," he muttered.
I sat bolt upright. "But it wasn't my fault! They were running…like…like imps! I was merely sitting—"
"I thought you had gone for a walk."
My jaw twitched. "I'd sat down for a moment."
He exhaled. "Regardless of whether you were sitting or standing, you had still better hope that they don't tell their father. He's protective of them…despite the fact that the world needs protecting from them more than he needs to protect them from the world."
"You have met him before?"
"I courted his wife long before they met." He smiled. "I do believe she broke my heart over him."
"I didn't do anything to his daughter," I mumbled. My ears started to burn. "I swear to you."
"You needn't swear to me. I trust you."
For a brief moment I considered arguing. There was nothing to argue, but I was certain I could find some point in which I disagreed. Before I blurted out words I'd later regret, I took a deep breath. It wasn't worth it.
With a sigh I lay down and rested my head on my folded arms. "Thank you," I said softly.
"For what?"
"For trusting me."
-o-
We woke to the sound of someone bellowing early in the morning. The sky had barely turned a pale yellow when footsteps stomped toward our camp. I sat up, donned my mask, and turned my face away.
"Bruised!"
"What is this, Arthur?" my uncle groggily questioned.
"Look! Look what he's done to her!"
The man dragged his daughter forward and thrust her arm out toward my uncle. "Look!" he shouted again.
The Shadow rubbed his eyes and peered at her arm. "What am I looking at? This? Why, it looks like she bumped into a tree while she was running about last night."
"He touched her!"
Terrified, I froze and stared at my knees, keeping one hand around Girl. I thought about the young woman begging me to release her and how I had not. I'd held her tighter—so tightly I bruised her. I was evil, monstrous…
"Oh, now, don't be hasty. Calm yourself, Arthur, before your heart gives out."
"I will kill him!"
"What proof do you have that he is responsible?"
"My daughter's word."
"You mean to kill a man over a bruise? Because your daughter blames him for her actions?"
"How is she responsible?"
"Honestly? Because she ran wild through the darkness. She's fortunate she didn't split her head open."
"Shut up! I will kill him!"
The girl shrieked and I glanced up in enough time to see a boot coming at my face. I swayed backward but it only lessened the impact. He kicked me in the center of the face and I reeled. It had been three months since anyone had hit me and at first I was stunned.
Only my father had beaten me—truly beaten me. I didn't know if I should lie still or fight back. My eyes filled with tears from the sudden throb of pain, body shook as I comprehended what had happened. The girl began to cry, apologizing to no one in particular.
I licked my lips and tasted blood. Glancing down I saw my shirt splattered in blood and realized it was my own.
"Did you kick me?" I questioned blankly. I had yet to realize exactly what had happened. The moment seemed surreal, cruelly twisted and distorted.
The man had backed off. He stared at me in horror as I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. My mask was crooked but still on my face. For a moment I forgot it and concentrated on the splotches of red surrounding me.
"Did you kick me?" I asked again.
He nodded, still seething--and terrified.
"In the face?" I stood, quite calm on the outside despite the torrent I felt growing within.
His expression sobered and he backed away. Blindly I followed him, my hands balled into fists and my legs stiff.
All of those years I had taken beatings without so much as a sound of defiance. Night after night, week after week, I curled into a ball, rocked myself back and forth, and waited until it was safe to breathe again.
This time was different. There was no cage to contain me, no familiar face to hold me down. I was free—free to fight back. To hurt, to destroy, to fight and kill as I'd never done before. I looked at him, at this man I didn't know. This man who didn't know me had kicked me in the face because he thought I'd bruised his daughter.
"Why?" My voice trembled. "Why do you think I am evil?"
He wouldn't answer me, not until I had him with his back against a tree.
"Why?" I questioned louder than before.
"I apologize," he said weakly, terrified of my face, my presence…I didn't know what he feared but I saw it in his eyes, a reflection what I felt like at the very core of my being.
"Erik, come here," my uncle said.
I ignored him and stared at the man. "I want to hurt you," I said softly. So much anger, so much burning deep inside my belly. "I want to hurt you very badly."
Tears pricked the man's eyes and he nodded, fearful of my calm that barely hid what I felt threatening to burst from my body.
"I want to do more than kick you," I told him quite honestly. "I would like to kill you."
"Erik. I said come here at once," my uncle said.
Anger boiled, rose to the very brink and threatened to destroy me. My hand balled into a fist and I imagined hitting him in the nose, imploding his face, damaging him worse than he damaged me.
A hand grabbed me roughly by the shoulder and dragged me back. "I trust you," he said between his teeth. He looked me dead in the eye, and for a heartbeat I didn't recognize the man who had stopped me from killing. "Erik. I trust you."
My lips parted and I stared at him, blinking away the tears that had clouded my eyes. A rush of pain brought my hands to my face and I thought for certain I would pass out from loss of blood.
The Shadow guided me to a stream and forced me to kneel beside him. He removed my mask and looked sadly into my eyes.
"Put your head down," he said softly.
His tone remained gentle as he splashed water onto my bare face and examined my nose. I was too ashamed to speak to him, too fearful of the anger I recognized. I had inherited more than music.
When it was determined that my nose was not broken and I would survive, he helped me to my feet and handed me my mask. I stared at it in misery, wishing it could cover more of the ugliness than it did.
"Erik…" he started. He didn't look at me and I didn't look at him. I thought for certain I would never look him in the eye again. "I fear we haven't long enough," he said under his breath.
His hand left my shoulder and he took a step away from me. He didn't need to say another word. I felt it in my heart. I was beyond saving.