Chapter Nine: Hoping
All the things I hate about civilization existed long before civilization was born. Including overcrowding. Around the time agriculture started becoming popular in the Nile basin, a religious movement started to gain a following. I tried ignoring it until there was a drought and they made plans to fertilize the fields with the blood of the shaman. So I wasn't in the best of moods as I made my way south avoiding all signs of human presence.
When I became aware of another immortal ahead of me, I nearly turned and ran. But I restrained myself, somehow, and went forward to meet whoever else was wandering this far from humanity. Turned out to be a teenage boy. He looked about fifteen, at any rate; he was probably at least two decades older than that. He approached me cautiously but openly. He was still young; there was a lot I could perceive from him that he didn't intention. He was confident and had reason to be so. He was handsome, and a bit of a heartbreaker, but was genuine in his affections. I didn't need to be able to read him to see the joy he gained from life – that was written all over his face and in his eyes.
He greeted me in a language I could understand, but only just. He said something to the effect of wanting to know what I was doing out here, or maybe it could have been where I came from, I was going to have to learn his particular dialect if I wanted accuracy. I made what I hoped was a deferent gesture and said I was simply a traveler. He seemed intrigued by my ready submission and asked my name. I gave what was really a diminutive of a word meaning woman that was the name I had been using in the area. He called himself "palm tree," but I wasn't sure if that was a name or a title or just a pseudonym. That was when I noticed that he did indeed have a weapon. There's no good translation for it as far as I know, it's more or less just a long, thin, flexible stick. The advantage of it was that it still hurt like hell and was fast. If you had good quality wood it was really hard to break, as well. I broke one once. Took a full three hundred sixty degrees' worth of momentum and all the strength in my left shoulder matched against the full force of my opponent's attack to do it, but I broke one. Along with my forearm, but it's an accomplishment nonetheless. They can really hurt, too. Often break the skin without much effort. But like any weapon, they limit your range and flexibility.
He noticed my glance at his stick he brandished it more openly, giving me a mischievous grin. When I showed no intention of drawing a weapon, he gave me a questioning look. I told him I was not going to kill him, but he might have misunderstood me. I cast my eyes downward, hoping submission would discourage him, but he didn't appear to be in it of the ego. I quickly learned he was in it for the fun of the fight.
When he first attacked me, I thought I had given him a false sense of security. I quickly realized he really was that good, despite being undisciplined. At first I just avoided his attacks, hoping when he couldn't land a single blow he'd get frustrated and become easier to subdue quickly. Far from loosing patience, he was intrigued by my fleetness and began to enjoy himself even more. Then he really started testing me, trying to keep me from moving anywhere too quickly and essentially back me into a corner, even though there were no corners to back me into. It had been years since anyone had pushed my limits so far, and despite myself, or maybe because of the kid's attitude, I became intrigued as well. I started fighting back, trying to get close enough to him that he couldn't use his weapon. I succeeded several times, but it was much harder than I expected and despite trying, I never did land a hit.
That was enough to get me to commit to the fight; something I hadn't done since before I had last had my limits tested. Maybe it was just the kid's infectious attitude, or that I hadn't had to really try for so long, or maybe just that it was clearly not a fight to the death anymore. Whatever triggered my unusual good humor, we soon were soon having a grand old time just trying to land a hit on each other. I had never and have never had so much fun in a fight. He really pushed my limits, and I pushed his, and not just once or twice, but continuously for nearly four hours. Without ever landing a single hit.
It was my superior endurance that would have won out in the end if I had had any intention of hurting or killing the kid. But even so, at the end of the fourth hour, there was no denying I was tired and breathing hard. If I felt that drained, the kid must have been four or five times worse. He looked it, as well. We stood out of each other's range, trying to catch our breath. The kid was really sweating and looked like he might be down for the count. He looked up at me and I swear to this day I have no idea what was so funny, but we both just started laughing. And couldn't stop for nearly half an hour. That was an experience I hadn't had in… well, since before my mother died.
When we finally got a hold of ourselves, we sat next to each other on the ground and had something resembling a conversation.
"You're pretty good for a girl," I think he said.
"You're pretty good for a baby," I said.
We giggled helplessly again, but by now our ribs hurt and it didn't last long.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked again (I think).
I shrugged, hoping to indicate both my lack of complete comprehension and the pointlessness of my wandering. "I was trying to avoid people. What are you doing out here?"
He grinned. "Playing a game." I was missing some subtle meaning in his words.
"What does that mean?"
"I'm chasing someone, and he's chasing me. It's a game."
"Is he one of us?" I tried to hide my worry.
"No, he's just a child."
Again, I missed some of the meaning in his words, but I nodded. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
He shrugged. He was a natural. I envied him. My skill had come from long experience. "You keep going the way you're going. You won't be in our way." He gave me a sly look from the corner of his eye, and I had yet another experience I hadn't had in a long time, unsolicited male attention. I sat up a little straighter, not sure if I should be alarmed or flattered. "It's nearly sunset, shall we share a campsite?"
Normally I would have refused point blank as the last thing I wanted to do was encourage him, but his wasn't the kind of company I often had opportunity to enjoy. Multiple novel experiences in a manner of hours? Not something I'd walk away from just because the kid might make a pass at me. "Sure."
After we parted ways, I made it a habit of checking up on him via gossip, which was the closest thing to intelligence I could get. He did very well for himself for some years. He might even have been able to beat me one day, but his womanizing caught up with him. Palm tree didn't even break her heart. He simply had the misfortune of falling for a woman with Hannibal Lecter tendencies. She didn't even know he wasn't just another man. She poisoned him and cut him up into little pieces. There is some truth in the saying that the brightest stars burn out the fastest. I wish I had even a portion of his enjoyment of life.
Frank, Pao, and Ben think I'm asleep. In truth I was trying to sleep, but then they go and start having an interesting conversation and I can't help myself.
"But she refused point blank to use deadly force. I remember, our boss nearly bumped her to embassy bomb threats and she wouldn't budge."
"Yeah, well. There's a reason she's so adamant. She has nightmares, and talks in her sleep. This Rji has a real vendetta for her and I don't think it's because of a foiled political plot. All I know is, they're supposed to fight one on one. It's a tradition that's taken really seriously. Rji has called all her remaining students together for this. This is serious."
"What do you think mom's going to do?"
"That's the thing. I don't know. I've tried to do my homework, but the Watchers don't keep any records of her. Or Rji. And the only person I can get a hold of who'll talk about mom's behavior patterns is Frank here."
"Me?"
"You were her partner for what, ten years? What do you think she'll do?"
"Well… Jeez, I dunno. I don't think she'll kill nobody, if that's what you mean."
"Come on, Frank. You two went through some real shit together. You must have a general idea how she would react to someone gunning for her."
"Well, from what I've seen her tendency is to try to hide her trail and take on a new identity. But now we're all in the mix, and to be honest I haven't seen her do anything lately but try to protect you two."
"I don't like this business about going to another immortal for help. To be honest this has me more worried than anything else."
"Aiar never talked about other… immortals much. To be honest I never really more than half believed it. She's a private girl, she is."
"Why'd she tell you, anyway?"
"Well. She, uh, she got hit by all this shrapnel. And, uh, well."
"She saved your life, didn't she."
"I thought she'd died to save me. I don't think I took it very well when she started breathing again."
"Frank. Ben. Focus, please. We really need to know what she's thinking. Think, Frank, you must have some kind of pulse on her."
"What do you want me to say? She's never let me in on her plans more than I needed for my part. It's one of the reasons we almost didn't stay partners. She doesn't like people getting to know her."
"She looks like a little girl."
"You're not holding out on us deliberately, are you, Frank?"
"Now why would I do that?"
"Because you don't trust us. Answer the question."
"Pao. Just calm down, alright? We're not going to accomplish anything this way. If Frank had any useful information I'm sure he'd either tell us or act on it himself. Mom isn't going to do anything stupid, okay? I don't understand why you're up in arms about it."
"Not do anything stupid? Ben, did you ever hear some of the stuff she says when she's having nightmares?"
"Yes… why?"
"So you must know that she has a lot of… feelings… that could be very dangerous to her."
Ben sounds confused at first, and for a very brief moment I think he's going to tell Pao that she's making things up. But then he says, "But you don't think she'd… act on them, do you?" My blood runs cold and I begin to realize that Lucia, supposing she even remembers me and agrees to help me, is going to have a harder time than I thought.
Pao sounds more cynical than I've ever heard her sound. "I wouldn't be so sure."
"Give me a reason," Marcus said, voice fully of hate and pointed irony.
"Allis," I managed to cough out. "All of them. All their faces. All the blood." I didn't mean to say anything.
Confused, Marcus jabbed me with his knee. It hurt but I welcomed the pain. "What do you mean? All who?"
I laughed pathetically, and started crying again. "A thousand deaths wouldn't be enough. My blood won't cleanse me." I was hysterical, but barely aware of it. Images were flickering in front of my eyes, almost like the memory intrusions, but too fast for me to recognize.
Marcus paused for a moment, obviously unsure of what to make of me. I collapsed into tears again, but Marcus paid no attention. Only my curse of a memory allowed me to recognize pity behind his movements as he yanked me up by arm, twisting it so hard that my upper arm broke. Enjoying the way the pain drowned out the memories, I managed to stop crying as he slammed me up against the tree.
I giggled, sounding mad. "Avenge Allis! Do it now! No one deserves death more than me! I'm glad he's dead! I'm glad they're all dead! Lucky bastards! Why! Why do they get to go and not me!"
"You're manipulating me." But he didn't sound convinced.
I shuddered, and felt the sudden compulsion to protect my stomach. I knocked his hand away and huddled over my knees, shaking hard. Suddenly I was speaking in my mother tongue instead of Latin. Repulsed and horribly confused by all the memories that suddenly tried to intrude, I groaned and bit my fist. For a long moment, all I did was rock back and forth, shaking and wishing Marcus would kill me already. When a gentle hand touched my shoulder, I started and my head snapped up to see who was there. It was Marcus.
He was struggling with himself, fury still blazed in his eyes and breath, but pity restrained him and tormented me. A swell of anger rolled through me and in a fury of self-hate I struck out at him, trying to provoke him into killing me. It sort of worked; he stabbed me in the heart with the knife.
When my heart started beating again, I was lying at the foot of the tree and Marcus was eating all my food. To my lasting surprise, the knife wasn't still in my chest, nor was I bound. For a moment I coughed and tried to sit up, but soon let myself fall back down. Aside from the physical sensations of reviving, I felt better, or maybe it was just better by comparison. The intrusive memories had stopped, which could have explained it. I stared up at the leaves and the morning sky, wondering vaguely why I felt nothing.
Marcus noticed I was up and said, "Get over here."
I felt a strange relief knowing that I wasn't going to get off as easily as a knife in the sternum. It still took a tremendous effort to get up, nevertheless. About five minutes later, I sat across the fire from him, not meeting his eye. He ignored me and continued to eat the rest of the food from my saddlebags. There wasn't much, I tended to hunt, but I was sure it was at least some relief to his hunger. Once he had rummaged through all of my stuff in a search for food, he turned his attention to me at last.
He stood over me for what seemed like an hour and was probably forty five seconds. Finally he spoke. "Promise me. Swear that you will never forget Allis."
Humor rippled up through my rib cage, but I didn't seem to have the energy to laugh. That was probably the easiest oath I could ever take, and one I would gladly break if it were at all possible. I gave myself a minute to let the irony subside before speaking. "By earth and water, air and sky I shall never forget your mentor, Allis. I am so sworn."
For some reason he was angry again. He took two quick strides to me and yanked me up. My upper arm wasn't even sore from being broken anymore.
"Look at me!"
Reluctantly, I looked up into his eyes, feeling very exposed. His grief and anger bored into me until I thought I was going to finally break.
"Why-" Another intrusive memory. Ari throwing a rock at me. Only in the present I was somehow both rock and thrower for Marcus. I told Ari I loved him. Marcus demanded why. Only there were too many whys he demanded. He couldn't say them all. He was shaking now, and I saw the grief and anger reach boiling point. He struck me with one hand and held me with the other. I could have kept my balance, but I wasn't paying enough attention and my shoulder felt it. He struck me again and let me fall. I stayed down, waiting for the next blow that never came.
I'm still not sure bringing my children and Frank with me to see Lucia is such a good idea, but it's preferable to leaving them on their own in the San Francisco apartment I've gotten access to. I have visions of the three of them getting abducted while I was out finding protection for them. Better to keep them in sight while possible.
My primary problem at the moment is that I'm already feeling guilty for what I'm going to put my children through. My secondary problem is I don't know what I'm going to say to Lucia because I don't know how much she remembers me. If she remembers me. Or if she'll even be willing to help me supposing she remembers me as vividly as I remember her. I'm taking a considerable amount of risk in all this. I also need to call Johanssen. There's also the possibility that Rji won't show up as quickly as I'm expecting her to.
Frank, who has been to many a remote and exotic location with me, is acting like a tourist as our car approaches the bay. Ben is enjoying himself in his calm way, but Pao is agitated and keeps trying to ruin everyone's fun. I try to ignore all three because I'm not entirely sure where I'm going and I have to count lights. The last time I was in San Francisco none of these streets were part of the city.
The house is a fixer-upper. It looks livable, but there's no car in the driveway so I start worrying. I park across the street and get on the phone again, this time in Chichewa. At least I'm not harassing the Watchers this time. Frank immediately starts making fun of the way the language sounds, which Ben chuckles at and Pao treats with a stony glare. I spare Frank a moment to smack him, but otherwise ignore all three. I feel kind of bad for them; at this point they're just tag-a-longs and have nothing better to do but to harass each other and me. I'm barely through with my phone call when a car rounds the corner and I know there's an immortal driving and another in the passenger's seat. Adrenaline makes my pulse jump but I get it under control as I get off the phone as quickly as possible.
Lucia, and someone younger, no one I recognize but probably her current student. Lucia notices us standing around my car but the boy doesn't, which means I'm unconsciously interfering with their perceptions of me. Not a good foot to start out on. Seeing my hand as I put my phone away, I realize I've also made my life a lot more difficult. When I met Liùsaidh, I was really roughing it. I had nearly forgotten about my tattoos and I wasn't hiding them. The tattoos on my cheeks, neck, and hands are currently expertly disguised by some rather expensive makeup. Feeling like an absolute fool with a nervous smile pasted on my face, I wait until they've parked the car outside the house before crossing the street to meet them.
Lu gets out of the car, looking wary behind her poker face. Her student just looks confused.
"Liùsaidh!" Recognition flickers in her eyes. She takes a good long look at me before speaking.
"Aiar?" My smile becomes more genuine. I thank my lucky stars I told her my real name before we parted ways.
"Yes! I'm- I'm sorry to just show up on your doorstep like this. I didn't come at a bad time, did I?" I bite my lip, trying to figure out how much affection I should show.
"No, it's not a bad time," she says, the wariness lessening but not disappearing. "This is Christian." She indicates the young man.
"Hi, this is Frank, and that's Ben and this's Pao."
"Come in. Come in."
We all follow Lucia into the house, which is definitely being worked on. I get the feeling the two of them are doing all the work themselves. She ushers us into the kitchen, offers us drinks, which everyone but me accepts. I can see Lucia is trying to remember our friendship more clearly. I hope she considers it a friendship.
"What happened to your tattoos?" she asks me amiably as she makes coffee.
I grin, still hiding just how anxious I am. "One of the wonders of the modern world. Really convincing makeup." I lick a fingertip and demonstrate on the back of a different finger, smudging the makeup so my tattoos show through. Christian's the only one who's particularly interested. Pao and Frank are still bickering and Ben's enjoying the show, while Lucia is mostly giving me speculative looks. Pao, uncomfortable with the subject of tattoos, tugs her sleeve farther down. Luckily neither Lucia nor Christian notice.
"So, uh," Christian starts, "how do you guys know each other?"
I glance at Lucia, who apparently decides to field the question. "We traveled together for a while. Back packing in the Alps, right?"
I realize she doesn't know what's a safe subject because of my company. I give her a wry smile and say, "I'm surprised you remember. It was well before this lot was born." I make sure to include Ben in the sweep of my hand. Lu takes the hint, but doesn't comment. It doesn't take long before we're on our own in the sunroom supposedly looking at the work she's been doing on it.
"So, why are you really here, Aiar?"
My stomach flips over. "I… I need help."
Concern shows in the muscles around her eyes. "What kind of help?"
She's no fool. She doesn't trust me completely. But I can't manipulate, she's my friend, and I need her support to be based in reality. Besides, I've been making lots of mistakes in the last twelve hours due to anxiety and thinking ahead too much. So I take a deep breath, try to keep my voice level, and keep my eyes on the floor. "I'm being hunted. And what's worse Ben and Pao are, too. I c-can't protect them and do what needs to be done at the same time. Frank's trying to help me, but he's not up to the task. I'm not asking you to get involved in my fight directly, I just need to know they're safe."
There's a lot more I want to say, but make myself stop. Best to save it for Q&A. Lucia considers this for a moment or so.
"Why come to me?"
I feel like crying again. "You're the most recent immortal I remember thinking of as my friend." I dare to look up again and regret it. I don't see friendship in her eyes. "I don't… you're the only one I know is alive." I'd be overdoing it if it weren't true.
"That was almost two hundred years ago!" I don't have the courage to meet her eye again. My fear hasn't run this high in a long time and it's starting to drown out my instincts and intuition. Fuck starting, it has been ever since Pao and Ben found me. I don't think I realized how scared I was for them until I saw them again. I should get some sleep. "Who's hunting you, Aiar?" Lucia asks after some amount of time.
"Do you know someone name Rji?" I look up at her now that the subject's moved to something less emotionally volatile. She shook her head. "She's from my time, roughly." I don't know if she knows that my time is several orders of magnitude farther back than she probably suspects. "One of the last as far as I know. I killed her brother. It took her long enough to take up this vendetta. I'm hoping if I can get to her before she finds Pao and Ben. I know… I know I brought this on myself. But they are innocents in this, Liùsaidh."
"So… you want me to baby-sit some mortals." She sounds like she's looking for the fine print.
I have to take a steadying breath. "Not exactly."