Part Two: Knight's Errand
Days of searching turned to weeks, becoming no less frantic as time marched, battalions of minute soldiers pounding at her frustrated mind with relentless precision. (She thought she would scream; she caught herself reeling in a deep breath; she gritted her teeth and hissed it back out between them and was very quiet.) She went about her business, questioned people as closely as she dared, knowing that not only would his enemies have already covered any and all bases, but that if she let on what she intended to do (because it was stupid, insane, utterly stupid, utterly insane, a series of acts that no rational person would ever consider) then some well-meaning person would undoubtedly try to stop her. Try to return her to her senses. Try to prevent her from finding him.
She needed to find him.
Desperation didnt quite cover it; she knew only that it was somehow deeply necessary, inextricably linked with whatever it was that allowed her to keep breathing, even in the midst of the panic attacks that closed up her throat and froze her heartbeat. She knew he was out there, and she was sure that he needed her. She had to keep on.
She kept on.
It shouldnt, strictly speaking, have been possible to find him. He was trained to hide himself when necessary, trained to disappear. Maybe to not ever have been; it must be some kind of skill. Not one that she would want, but undoubtedly useful in his line of business.
Which surely wouldnt be his line of business any more?
It didnt bear thinking about, actually. If she was very careful, she could almost totally ignore the twinge of guilt she felt every time she remembered the way they met, the way he spoke (strange and kind) even when he told her that her fathers life was to be ransomed with a phone call. Very good at what he did, no doubt of it.
She wondered how long, how long exactly, hed been watching her before the plan actually went into effect. If his eyes had lingered. If his breath had caught. If his mouth went dry, as he watched.
She could still feel his fingers.
It wasnt so much the scars that burned, as the scorches his eyes had left on her skin.
It was necessary to keep on, and so she did. She now saw herself as one of the soldiers, marching forward on a twisted path that led, ever steadily, downwards. Where did it end? She didnt know, and she learned to mask her fright at the thought of finding out. She avoided her father as much as she could; he was the only one who knew her well enough to suspect that she hid something in her turned-away eyes. On the phone her voice was thin, her cheer forced. His was fatherly and warm with undertones of suspicion.
ANo. No, Im fine. Its hard lately, work has been grueling, theres some real jerks out there, but I knew that, anyway, when I started, so its not that much of a surprise. No, I cant delegate this sort of thing, these customers are very touchy, they only want to deal with the boss, and these days Lauren is off on some sort of never-ending cruise, so Im the boss, I guess. No, I cant.
No.
Leave me alone.
Stop asking questions.
She lied well. In fact her job was nothing more than a series of delegations to various underlings, favors that she asked of them, commands that they could have ignored; but no one wanted to. They were more than a little tentative and careful when she was around, still wary of bringing up unwanted memories to her. They were, frankly, afraid shed have a breakdown in their presence. They were afraid theyd be the ones to call the men in white coats to take her away.
Everyone was afraid; she was the only one who seemed ready and willing to function with fear, to live with it. She almost learned to love it, and might have, had the concept of love not appeared so foreign to her, so strange and thoroughly unattainable. No, it wasn't love that drove her on, to search endlessly.
There are forces stronger than love. It's an optimistic conspiracy by the parents of the world, to tell their children that love conquers all, but there are forces far, far stronger. She couldn't put a name to it. She couldn't explain it.
It just was.
And as it was, it couldn't be ignored or forgotten, a dull ache just beneath her skin, covering her entire body. An ever-deepening chasm, widening the gap between her vital organs and the front she put up for those who watched her with keen eyes. She could tell a lie with the best of them.
When she found him, perhaps they could have a contest.
When she found him. No sooner a thought than an action, and she tried and tried and searched. Her eyes burned. Her bones ached. The door remained closed, and when she dreamed of something other than him, the knight's sword was on the backswing. It seemed almost alive, as though it hunted her. Hungry for prey, it reached to cleave, to finish the chasm that slowly built inside her. She felt bigger and older than the earth.
What shouldn't have been possible, was.
A strange house.
A strange man.
A frightening familiarity, and a sudden hitch in his breath.
A/N: FF dot net has seen fit to delete all of my apostrophes. Sorry about that.