LUCKY THIRTEEN
The days blurred into a first long week with the witches. Robin tried desperately to be social and polite, as friendly as she could to their hosts. Amon, on the other hand, kept as much distance as humanly possibly between himself and their captors. Yes, for that was what the witches truly were. Try as she might to see otherwise, the witches had taken them hostage, holding the pair captive in that house.
Robin never felt so free, nor so confined in her entire life. She was a lioness, kept in a zoo. While the girl had everything she could have needed and the ability to roam free, Robin couldn't leave the home. The freedom remained a harsh illusion, marked by Kristo's continued patrolling of the perimeter. She tried to grin and bear it, make the best of the situation.
Robin tried her best to make friends. Nycole and Kathain seemed the most open and welcoming. Hell, Kathain was only four years older than the teenager, and Nycole, only seven. The two giggling red heads were the closest thing Robin could have to friends in that prison. Especially when she found out just how caged the two of them felt. While Robin's pseudo-captivity had lasted but a week, the rules and laws of the witches had bound the two girls since they came to Japan from Atlanta. The Craft user almost pitied the pair, trapped by honor and vigilance.
And, for every step closer to the others Robin took, Amon took a step further away, both figuratively and physically. His perimeter sweeps grew larger and wider, opening with each passing day, and lengthening time wise. And, for however hard the former hunter tried, he always ended up passing Kristo's glaring form, skulking about the dark, wood paths. Somehow, damn him, the shadow walker always seemed to know exactly where Amon trespassed in the lonely night.
Escape no longer seemed an option by the fifth day.
Sakaki, for his part, seemed to grow closer, welcomed back by what seemed like family. Robin's heart melted slightly at the thoughts. No longer did she think the telepathic Nycole had brainwashed or "Jedi-mind-tricked" Sakaki. No, after his reactions in the car and his behavior around the witches, it was clear Haruto found family and comfort in these strange foreigners. Robin couldn't hate the witches, nor could she hate Nycole for awakening the man. In fact, she had to admire that ragtag band for taking in an unstable, newly awoken witch, harboring him from the STN-J and Solomon, and still finding the time for fun, games, jokes, and more family like activities.
And Nycole?
Robin definitely couldn't hate the empath when she saw the red head leave the house on the sixth day with Sakaki not far behind. The teenage Craft user had followed, keeping at least thirty feet of distance between herself and the pair. She watched, curiously, as they wandered the paths in the daytime, down to the stream and sat on the rocks.
Robin crouched low behind a bush, staring in amazement.
The two meditated. At first, it seemed like nothing, just an average, everyday activity. Robin had seen the Buddhist monks of Tokyo's temples and even priests of Rome's grand cathedrals meditate all the time. However, after no more than a few moments, it changed. Nycole seemed to open up, and waves of energy cascaded from the empath towards Sakaki, warmly glowing in the morning light. Sakaki welcomed them, pulling them around his own form. Robin studied the pair in awe as Nycole's Craft seemed to ease him.
Finally, the empath stopped, snapping her energy back into herself. "Robin, you can come out now."
"What?" the girl stammered.
Nycole looked directly at Robin's hiding spot. "You can't hide from an empath; we can always feel you coming."
The teenager gave a nod and approached slowly, careful of her dress on the thick underbrush. "I should have known better, then." Robin's thanks her when she stood, stretching out the muscles. She stepped lightly onto the stone as Nycole bade her to come closer. "I guess it comes with your Craft"
"It does," the telepath replied with a casual shrug of her shoulders.
The three sat, bathed in the sun. Robin gave quick glances to Sakaki. He seemed… he seemed better, oddly enough. The Craft user had to admit it. Whatever Nycole had done put the man at a comfortable ease in life, relaxed. His own Craft even seemed quelled and appeased. The meditation served Sakaki well, as had whatever Nycole had done.
"It's focused, emotional meditation." The telepath paused, sensing the curiosity to Robin's inquiring mind. "Brett's a bit more intense of an instructor than I am, but it's working. Basically, it's trying to get him to allow him to use his fear as a trigger without him being the fight-or-flight stage." Nycole explained matter-of-factly. "We've been working on better controlling his emotions so his Craft won't erupt as violently or as uncontrolled."
Robin smiled at Sakaki, almost proudly. "How is it working?"
"I have my good days and my bad days," the man admitted.
Nycole gave Haruto a playful nudge. "Soon, there'll be nothing but good days."
xxxx
"Don't get close to them."
Amon snarled the words to himself. He had seen everything of that incident. He had watched from afar as Robin spoke with Nycole and Sakaki. The man instinctively felt protective over the teenage girl, ready to fight at a moment's notice, but neither seemed to be attacking. And neither even attempted to sway Robin to their side. They spoke as if the strange little hostage situation wasn't even happening.
In the end, somehow, Nycole had even gotten Robin to shuck off her shoes and play in the stream with her, searching for bits and pieces of quartz. Amon reached into his pocket, pulling out the small quartz pebble Kathain had given him that first night. The hunter pondered if what the supposed precognitive had said was true, if he would suffer a cruel and terrible fate because of her. Amon shook his head; the man didn't believe in premonition and superstition, and especially not the inane babblings of a 20 year-old girl.
Amon's fist tightened over the pebble fiercely. No. He didn't believe. Kathain's little stunt by the stream had probably only been a façade. The girl probably did it just to try to get into Amon's good graces. It was a ploy, nothing more, a simple game to make the witches look like they were good and decent people. Amon knew better.
"Amon…."
Speak of the devil, the precognitive slowly walked up behind him, snapping twigs as she moved closer to Amon.
The hunter didn't turn. "What is it, Kathain?"
"I…." The girl trailed off, looking down the hill to where Nycole and Robin played in the stream as Sakaki watched. "I just wanted to apologize."
"For what?"
Kathain skirted the subject deftly. "Just for what happened." She knelt beside Amon, bowing her head in a show of respect and holding out a little, steaming bowl of tomato soup. "I remembered I didn't know how to make miso…. Then, I remembered I didn't know if you liked miso."
Amon furrowed his eyebrows, taking the white bowl from her hands. "Thanks."
Kathain rose, bowing again slightly. The girl hadn't quite gotten used to the customs and manners of Japan. She had always seen people bowing in movies, at the drop of a hat sometimes. The girl just assumed it was common practice. If Amon were any other person, he would have laughed and laughed heartily at her foolish assumption, just like most other foreigners and tourists traveling to Japan. Instead, a tiny smirk graced his lips.
"What's so amusing?" The precognitive placed a hand on her hip.
Amon gave a nod of his head in her direction. "You don't have to bow all the time."
"Oh…" Kathain grew quiet, her voice dropped with embarrassment. "I didn't realize. I'm sorry." The girl practically blushed. "I just thought it was what you do when… I don't know." The hunter shrugged but didn't respond. "What? Still don't trust us?"
"I don't trust anyone who takes me hostage."
The precognitive giggled. "Amon, don't you understand?" He didn't respond. "You aren't being forced to stay here."
"Could have fooled me with Kristo acting like he does," the hunter growled.
Kathain sighed. "You have to understand Kristo. He means well. He just doesn't want to see any of us hurt." The girl toyed with her hands, picking and prodding at a bit of dirt caught under her fingernails. "He wants to make sure we're safe and that our gifts don't fall into the wrong hands."
The precognitive stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder but jerking it back suddenly with an electric spark; Amon spun around as Kathain stepped back, a look of horror on her face. "Kathain?" The girl shook her head, her mouth opening a silent scream. "Kathain…" She settled under Amon's concerned gaze, refusing to look him in the face. "You have seen it again, haven't you?"
The precognitive bit her lip and nodded. She finally glanced up to the man for a moment. The image of Amon bloodied and battered haunted her, overlapping with the reality of the man crouched before her. The girl could almost hear his soft cries of pain and torment. On his face, blood streaked down, mixed with sweat. Yet, Kathain knew this not to be the real Amon, just an image of what could happen to him.
"Don't give in, Kathain. Don't."
"Yes," the girl whispered, scratching at her scars through the fabric of her armwarmers.
Amon caught the motion in the edge of his vision, reaching out and grabbing her hand sharply. "Don't." Kathain looked into his eyes in shock, but Amon's steely gaze remained. "You don't know for certain that it will happen."
"Nothing is predestined," the girl murmured.
"Nothing."
Down at the house, Bear was calling everyone in for the grill cheese sandwiches that went with the soup.
xxxx
On the morning of the seventh day, Kathain awoke with a start in the dusky, predawn twilight. The house was silent, save the gentle breathing of all those asleep, sprawled across futons on the floor and the few couches. A shadow moved past the door as Kristo and Brett finished their perimeter check.
Kathain rolled over to go back to sleep and jumped, badly.
A dark form lay beside her, with raven black hair mussed from sleep. He was on the next futon over, just close enough for the girl to see him even with her sleep-blurred eyes. It was common practice just to push the futons together on the bamboo floor, maximizing the amount of sleeping space, so that wasn't too unusual. His chest rose and fell calmly, as the man slept on, unaware of the blue eyes upon him.
"Amon…" she whispered.
He didn't open his eyes; instead, Amon spoke softly. "I'm sorry." He sounded sheepish, like a toddler caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "It was the last open futon."
Kathain nodded. Brett and Kristo had been platonically sharing that futon, much as the precognitive shared a futon with Nycole. When the pair rose to take the early morning shift keeping guard, it must have freed up the futon.
Still, it mildly surprised the girl. For six nights, Amon barely slept, catching a wink or two whenever he could while out patrolling the grounds. The hunter spent as little time as possible actually in the house. The home and the close proximity to all the other witches seemed to repulse Amon. It shocked Kathain slightly that he dared enter the house when it was not required and startled her that Amon actually chose to sleep, to let his guard down and be vulnerable.
"It's alright," Kathain breathed.
The hunter cracked open an eye at the girl as she burrowed herself deeper under the comforter. "I can go if you're uncomfortable."
"No…." The word came as an exhausted whimper rather than an actual request. "Stay."
Amon stayed.
He would stay there, on that futon, for the night. And the night after. And the night after that. Amon would stay with that band of witches, trusting them more than the witches seemed to trust him. Only Kathain put her faith in Amon.
But it was something the man could deal with.
xxxx
Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made you out of clay. –Sorry, that was for NyKole Todd