Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Fifteen
We never made it back to the tour or the presentation about the future of the Academy. When I asked about it, Cal waved me off saying he'd tell me about it later. "I have to get some stuff before I head back to Ocean Hill." He says as we make our way back up to the ground level of the palace.
"Okay," I say suddenly unaware of what I should do with my hands, I shove them deep into the pockets of my pants. "Should I just go up to the entryway?"
"No," He says shaking his head slightly, the goofy smirk I love beginning to form on his lips. "Come with me."
"Okay." I feel a smile tugging on the corners of my lips and I look down to hide it. Excitement bubbling in my stomach. Even after the events of today, he doesn't want me out of his sight. I am an old gazebo and he is Evangeline.
He leads me down another hall I don't think I've been down before. As we walk he explains this used to be a residence hall and it's been redesigned into dormitories for teachers. He shoulders open the third door we pass. "And this one is mine." He says as the door swings open. It's much smaller than the residence apartments I'm used to. Probably half the size of the ones in Ocean Hill. It has a small sitting room and an even smaller kitchen, that I'm sure Cal has never used.
The doorway to the bedroom is open and I can see clothes strewn across the floor from here, somethings never change. "I just have to grab my bag and some paperwork and we can get out of here." He calls to me over his shoulder as he makes his way for the bedroom.
As he busies himself, I take a look around the sitting room. The couch is simple, black leather, a gray fuzzy blanket thrown over the back of it. There are tables on either side of the couch with matching lamps, their bulbs still intact. There's not much in this room and I can take a guess to say he doesn't spend much time in here. I make my way to the open door of the bedroom and watch him.
He's bent over his desk, scanning papers spread all over its surface. He takes his time picking the ones he needs and puts them neatly in a folder, which he shoves haphazardly in the bag sitting in between his feet.
His bed is unmade and the room is cluttered and messy, as always, but that is not what catches my eye. On the bedside table there is a picture frame with room for two pictures. One is of his mother, I recognize her instantly from the paintings in Ocean Hill. The other is of me. I step into the room and I can feel his eyes watch me as I make my way to the picture frame.
It's the picture from my identification card.
"It's the only clear picture I have of..." Cal says quietly from across the room. There are several pictures of me and of him, from wanted posters, security footage, and from the bowl of bones. None of them high quality, none of them I posed for, none of them are happy memories.
I look bored in the picture, done with the day and I was, my face dirty, my hair limp and stringy. I was itching to get out of that office, not wanting to be there for a minute longer. I didn't even smile. I had no idea what was waiting for me in my future. "We'll have to get you a better one." I say absently, looking at the girl in the picture, I hardly recognize her.
"Maybe one of both of us?" He asks and I can hear hope color his words.
I don't have the heart to let him down, and who am I kidding, it wouldn't be awful if I had a picture of him. "Maybe," Is all I say.
He hoists a bag on to his shoulder, "You ready?" He says not pushing any farther. "Here," He tosses a leather jacket at me as I turn to face him.
"What's this for?" I ask catching it in one hand and following him into the sitting room.
He turns, a smirk plastered to his face. "Do you trust me?"
With my life and everything else, I think but I just nod following him out of the room, waiting as he locks the door behind him, clutching the jacket to my chest.
He leads me through the palace, taking old servant hallways, hiding us from the rest of the buildings inhabitance, until I start recognizing where we are.
"Cal?" I call to him, a wicked grin forming on my lips.
"Yes, Mare?" He smiles pushing open the last door into his workshop. The large cement room has florescent lights hanging from above, their buzz of electricity a comfort. There are more metal pieces than before strewn around the room, an old cycle is stripped to its skeleton, a newer cycle sitting right next to the old one covered in sleek black metal.
I shut the door behind me as I enter the room. "Are we going for a joy ride?" I ask, a hand on my hip, the other still clutching the heavy leather jacket.
He chuckles as he busies himself tying his bag to the back of the cycle. "I thought you might want to ride with me instead of in a transport."
Oh, do I, I think and my cheeks burn at the thought. Not now, I chastise myself.
Cal swings a leg over the cycle, looking back at me. "I mean you can always ride with Farley and Natasa if you want." He smirks over his shoulder. He thinks he's so slick.
I pull the jacket on, its baggie on me and the sleeves are too long. But it smells like burning wood, "No, I'll ride with you." I take my seat behind him, pulling a helmet over my head and wrap my arms around his torso.
He starts the cycle, and covers the hand I have flat on his chest with his, I can feel his heart race under my hand. "You ready?" He shouts to be heard over the motor. I nod against his back, holding on as tight as I can. A large bay door opens on one end of the room and Cal angles us toward it as he revs the engine.
He peels out of the room and into the fresh October air, his heat the only thing keeping me warm as we weave around the traffic on the way to air field. Whitefire isn't far from the airfield and in no time I can see the jets on the horizon, I wish the trip was longer.
He pulls on to the runway smoothly and the closer we get the clearer the news crews surrounding our jet are. I hear Cal swear as he circles the jet and heads back the same way we came. I can feel their camera's snap and click with pictures, the reporters pointing and waving with microphones in their hands, shouting our names to get our attention. Cal leaves them in the dust. We don't look back at them.
"Where are we going?" I ask over the roar of the cycle.
"Ocean Hill," Is the only reply I get. I try to calculate how long the ride from here to Ocean Hill is. It has to be at least two hours.
You're with Cal, I think to myself, does it even really matter? No, it doesn't, I decide.
I'm sure Farley is having a fit right now, and the thought tugs a smile from my lips. By this time she has certainly noticed I am gone and they should be getting off the jet in Fort Patriot now.
We've been on the road for an hour, the sun starting to dip below the horizon, we decided to stop at an old tavern on the way. Reds pool out after having one too many drinks, laughing and scarlet flushed with alcohol. The joy they have at being able to pay for a drink, a meal, and have some left over evident on their faces as the stubble into the quickening darkness towards their homes.
"I met you at a place like this." Cal says over his drink. He sits across from me at a small table, a hat hung low on his head to hide his face. I have one of my own, but judging by the stares we received when we walked in, they know who we are, and they don't care. The lights are dim here, only a few lights overhead, giving the room the appearance of candle light. It gives Cal a warm glow, almost as if red blood ran beneath his skin.
I meet his gaze from across the table, "You're the only one that's ever caught me." In all my years of pick-pocketing and thieving, he is the only one to grab my hand while it was still in his pocket.
He smiles wistfully at the memory as he puts down his drink, leaning his elbows on the table, "Oh, have I?" He questions and I can see where this is going.
"Yes." I say, and I don't elaborate. Yes, you caught my hand, my heart, my life. Everything that I am, but I do not say that out loud. I still have not made a decision about what will happen after this trip but the thought of leaving him again stills me. I don't want to be without him.
He raises an eyebrow but he doesn't push. He watches me for a while before picking food off my half eaten plate. "We should get going. We still have to make it back for the dinner."
I groan, "I forgot about the stupid dinner."
"Good thing I'm here then," He winks at me, finishing his drink and leaving some coins on the table for the server. She won't have to work for a week with the kind of tip Cal leaves, it's more than enough to cover our food and drinks. He stands and looks down at me, offering me his hand. "You ready?"
I take a few more scraps of my food and shove them in my mouth. I take his hand and I let him lead me out of the tavern, once we're outside I don't let go. He looks down at our hands as we walk to the cycle, surprised, but he doesn't say anything.
He lets me get on the cycle first, before swinging a leg over and settling in the seat.
"Thank you," I whisper as I wrap my arms around his middle. Thank you for not pushing, for helping me, for loving me, for being the same man I fell in love with so long ago. I think I loved him the moment I saw him, but I can't be sure, all I know is that in this moment, I feel whole. A feeling that I don't think I've ever noticed before, it's not like there was something missing from my life before this, but I know now there was. Cal was missing.
He doesn't respond, he bows his head and covers my hands with one of his. I know, like me, there are thousands of words on the tip of his tongue, but none of them will come out.
I hold tighter as he starts the cycle and eases us back onto the road.
We fly down old dirt village roads, newer paved highways, and finally we can see the lights of Harbor Bay. It's beautiful at night, the lights from the houses and businesses reflect off the water nearby, the smell of salt in the air. I've never seen the city from this side, it's incredible. I can see Ocean Hill from here, it's lit up from top to bottom and it looks like a star in the sky. I can tell now why it was Corrianne's favorite.
We weave around traffic and slow transports and finally pull into the drive of Ocean Hill. The maid I had seen this morning races down the stairs towards us. "Mr. Calore!" She shouts over the noise of the cycle, "Miss Barrow! You're late." She rushes to us, "Hurry, we must get you two ready."
"I'm sorry Mrs. Franklin," Cal blushes as he takes his helmet off and rises from the cycle. He offers a hand to help me off and I accept, if only to keep touching him a bit longer.
Mrs. Franklin, shoos us towards the palace. "Come on now, hurry." She says from behind us, "Miss Barrow, General Farley told me to let her know as soon as you arrived."
I wince. Farley is going to be pissed. "I'm going to get ready right now." I say walking a bit faster toward my room. At the fork in the hallway I let go of Cal's hand.
I take a few steps before I look behind me to see him looking over his shoulder back at me. The world is infinitely colder without him.
"And another thing," Farley continues to berate me as a poor servant helps me braid back my hair. The young girl is talented with her fingers quickly twisting my hair into a braid I'm unfamiliar with, I'm sure she's trying to get out of the room as fast as possible. "You didn't even tell anyone where you were going, I had to hear it from a damned reporter."
"It wasn't planned," I groan, again, for the third time in as many minutes. "They were surrounding the jet and we just…" I shrug, "Left. Cal was the one driving."
Farley narrows her eyes but I stop her before she can continue.
"But we made it on time, we're here and I'm almost ready," I gesture to my face painted with makeup and my hair currently almost done. "I just have to put my dress on and I'm ready to go."
Farley is already in her uniform, the top button undone allowing her to breathe and seethe at me easier. "I will see you downstairs." She growls through gritted teeth, turning on her heel, she mutters angrily to herself as she leaves the room.
I sigh in relief looking into the mirror at the servant behind me. "I'm sorry." I say sheepishly. The poor girl was waiting in my room when I arrived and was present the entire time Farley yelled at me.
She gives me a tight smile, "It's alright miss," She says putting her hands on my shoulders, done with her handiwork. "I have an older sister of my own."
I nod, not bothering to explain that Farley is not my sister. She is the closest thing that I have to an older sister after all.
"Do you like it?" She pulls the braid over my shoulder to look at her work. Instead of the standard three or five piece braids I'm used to, this braid used several different pieces. "They call it a fishtail." She explains.
"It's beautiful, thank you." I say meeting her gaze in the mirror, running my hand down the intricate.
"I've hung your dress up in the bathroom. It's stunning." She says as she backs away, giving me room to stand. She's shorter than I am, which is saying something, she looks more like a bird then a person, as if she might fly away at any moment.
"Thank you, my little sister made it." I say, a blush of pride spreading across my face.
"She's very talented miss." She bows and exits the room without another word. I should really start asking for their names.
I head toward the bathroom. This dress is black, black as night. Black as Cal's old colors. The dress is form fitting to right below my hips where it flairs out. Of course and as always, this dress is high enough to cover my collar bone. The neck, a straight line across my chest to my shoulders, a cut out of a lightning bolt on the back, the bare skin tickling as the tip of my braid sways back and forth. I'm not as muscular as Farley, but I'm thin and lean, and the dress accentuates every curve, no matter how small, I have. I think you'll be distracting no matter what you wear, a voice pulls at my memory and I have to smile. Oh Gisa, you don't know what you've done.
Kilorn is waiting for me in the hall. Clad in his own Scarlet Guard uniform, his hair slicked back and neat. His hands are clasped behind his back as he stares down the hall. I clear my throat to get his attention.
"Holy…" Kilorn trails off, his eyes wide as he takes in the sight of me and my dress.
"Nice, huh?" I say as I turn in my dress. For as tight as it is, it is surprisingly comfortable.
"I'll say." He whistles through his teeth. "Gisa is not messing around."
"No, she is not." I chuckle, trying to smooth down a wrinkle in the satin. "Shall we?" I ask extending my arm to him.
"We shall." Kilorn takes my arm, straightening his back and marching us down the hall. I can't help but laugh out loud, the sound echoing down the hallway.
"I wouldn't be surprised if Cal shits himself when he sees you." Kilorn whispers to me as the doors to the grand hall are opened for us.
I let one corner of my mouth be tugged in a smile. "I'm pretty sure that was Gisa's goal."
The hall is full, we must be one of the last to join the dinner. Dignitaries, silver and red, mill together, chatting and drinking, taking small crab cakes and other appetizers from trays carried around by servants in white suits. The room is an explosion of color, from the dresses and suits to the flowers and ivy covering the walls.
I spot Cal across the room, taking a sip from a champagne flute. Our eyes meet and he chokes on his drink, sputtering to whoever is next to him, the crowd of people blocking my view. Cal puts his glass down next to him, not taking his eyes off me, and heads towards me. With the movement I can see Natasa is left behind him following his gaze. I see her pout from all the way over here.
Kilorn lets my arm go, winking at me, "And this is where I leave you." He bows deep with a wink and heads over to where Farley leans against the bar.
Cal is dressed in head to toe black, black suit, black shoes, black tie. He looks like coal, ember waiting to burn. His eyes are bright and the color of melted bronze. I couldn't move from my spot if I tried.
"You look beautiful." He says as he reaches me, his voice like wet sand, warm and soft. I turn in my dress, if only to hide the bright red blush creeping up my face. He leans in and kisses my check quickly, "Remind me to thank Gisa." He whispers in my ear.
My face feels like it's on fire. I roam my eyes over his form, "You don't look too bad yourself." I mutter. I have seen this man naked, bloody, dying, in every which way you can see a person but the sight of him in this suit has my throat closing. I swallow hard. "I need a drink." I say to him looking around.
He offers his arm, and I take it without thought, "Follow me miss."
Cal pulls me through the crowd, I hear whispers as we pass, some even gasp. I'm not sure why, either didn't expect me to clean up so well, or they didn't expect us to be standing here together like this, I don't know. And I don't really care.
Cal grabs a flute off of a passing tray and hands it to me, I down it like the girl from the Stilts I am. I see him smile at me from the corner of my eye.
His attention gets pulled over to an older couple not too far from where we stand. "Ah," He gestures me forward, his hand on the small of my back. His thumb rubbing circles on the bare skin there. "Mare, this is Tanner and Miles," He says shaking hands with them in turn. "They've been assisting me with recruitment in the more rural areas for the Academy."
"Really, Cal just sends us out to the sticks and hopes for the best." Tanner smiles as he shakes my hand. "It's an honor to meet you, Miss Barrow."
"Please, call me Mare." I smile politely. I don't know how many times I've said my own name in the last week, but even I am getting sick of the sound.
The rest of the evening follows the same pattern. I am introduced to dignitaries or ambassadors or people of interest, they call me Miss Barrow, and I tell them my name is Mare. Again, I am not good at these sort of things and I try to say as little as possible. The meal is winding down, deserts being passed out by practiced servants, they smile as they place each setting.
I'm only on glass number two of wine, when I go to pour a third, Cal pulls the glass away deftly as he continues his conversation with another dignitary. He puts his hand on my leg and squeezes before letting go and placing his hand back on the table.
I'm not interested with the sweets laden across the table, I can see Farley and Kilorn dig in as soon as the plate is set down in front of them. After four courses, I don't think I could eat another bite. I look up and down the table slowly, watching all the different people laugh and talk. Red and Silver sitting at the same table. Carmadon and Davidson are a little further down the table. Carmadon's hand firmly in Davidson's as they laugh and joke with each other. Carmadon leans in and says something to cause a blush to rise on Davidson's neck. I watch them with envy, with hope and want. I wish it was that easy for me, to hold Cal's hand, to whisper to him a private joke in a crowded room.
I glance over at Cal, he's animatedly talking to a gentleman about the mechanics of a cycle, his hands waving, and his face flushed silver. He too has had one too many glasses of wine. I can feel myself smiling as he talks, he loves building things so much and the cycle his pride and joy. He's had the time to tinker more, if the skeleton of a cycle was any indication. His eyes are bright as he explains the mechanisms and gears, the advantages of having them in the armies. I remember the raiders in Montfort on their own cycles. One of them nearly killed me. I can feel a blanket of silence wrap around me at the memory. My breath hitching, my heart racing.
"Excuse me." I whisper as I rise from my seat, heading for the open terrace. I need air.
Once out in the cold evening air I gulp at it. I close my eyes, bracing myself on the stone balcony railing, breathing in and out. In and out. In and out.
It's cold out here and I wrap my arms around my shoulders. It's always cold when Cal's not near me.
I put the palms of my hands to my eyes. What am I going to do? I want to scream. My mind races and argues with itself. Can I leave my family in the safety of a foreign country? Hope the mountains keep them safe? Can I move them back to Norta? No. I can't. They love Montfort, love all that it has to offer, they have a life there. But I love Cal, and Cal is not in Montfort. Cal can't leave Norta, he has too many responsibilities and the children, he would never leave the children. But he loves me too and I am not in Norta. And then there's still the revolution, two more countries to be fought and won, who knows if I even make it back from there, whenever I go.
"Mare?" His voice shocks and sooths me in equal measure. "What are you doing out here?" Cal's heat ripples on the air, warming the small terrace.
I look onto the courtyard below us, sighing, "I was just thinking."
He comes to stand next to me, bracing his elbows on the terrace railing, leaning over to view the courtyard below. There is no gazebo in this one, this one is well taken care of. "That's dangerous," He says smirking up at me.
"Yeah," I sigh again, not taking the barb.
He straightens up to look at me fully, "Are you okay?"
I start to nod, to lie, but then I shake my head quickly. I will not lie to Cal. Not now. "No, I'm not." I look down at my fingers, twisting them together. "I don't know what to do about this," I gesture in between the two of us, "About us."
"Ah," He says taking a step back from me, standing straight. "Have you decided anything?" He looks down at his feet, away from my face, I can hear the disappointment in his words. The fear in what I might say. I'm afraid too.
"No," I say, "And yes."
His head jerks back up. His bronze eyes locked into mine. "What?" He barely whispers.
"I can't leave my family." I say bluntly, and I see the pain in his eyes, "But…" I trail off, "I can't…" My throat is thick and heavy, the words barely making it out of my mouth, "I don't know if I can leave you either."
His mouth is on mine before I've finished my sentence. It's as if my heart has not beat since I left him that day on the airfield in Archeon so long ago. It sings and bursts at the contact and I wrap my arms around his neck, his arms around my back holding me tight to his chest. If he crushed the air from my lungs, I would die a happy woman.
Someone clears their throat behind me and Cal pulls back, only an inch or so, reluctantly. "Cal?" It's Natasa, her voice soft and sad, "You're uncle is looking for you."
His hands are on my cheeks, watching me as I watch him, holding me still as if I might run. "I'll be right there." Natasa doesn't move, I want to kick her. His gaze ticks to her face behind me, "Or, I'll go right now." He kisses my forehead, "Can I see you later tonight?" He asks quietly.
I nod putting my hands to his wrists. "Go," I say just as quietly, "I'll see you later." As he leaves the terrace so does his warmth and I'm cold once again.
I hear the click of Natasa's heels as she enters my vision. "I see you two are getting along," She says with a tight smile.
I straighten my back meeting her gaze. "Yes." I do not elaborate.
"You know he'll never leave Norta, right?" She pushes, leaning against the balcony railing. "He has responsibilities here. People who care for him."
"Like you?" I ask taking a decided step closer to her, I see her try and hide a wince at my closeness and it warms my cold heart.
She doesn't answer right away and she purses her lips and meets my gaze. A challenge if I've ever seen one. She looks me from my feet to my head, "Perhaps."
I laugh coolly in her direction, taking everything I've ever learned from Evangeline and even Elara. I give her my own once over and turn my back to her.
"I've seen him after a nightmare." She calls out and it stops me dead in my tracks. I can hear the click clack of her heels as she comes closer to me. "In the middle of the night when there's no one around." She purrs to me. "For three long months I have helped heal his broken heart. A heart you broke."
My body goes even colder than before. I'm not interested in her at all, his letter had said. Could she be lying? Could he? I feel my heart dying in my chest. I will not let this wretched bitch see me falter.
I turn around and she's far too close. I am born of the Stilts, of mud and red blood. I take a step forward, daring her to step back. She too is born of the Stilts and stands her ground.
"I know who you are Mare Barrow." She spits down at me. "You don't care about anyone buy yourself. You are a thief. Nothing more than river trash."
I smile at that. She knows nothing about me. I wrench my arm back and punch her square in the nose just like Bree taught me when I was a little girl. Red blood spurts from under her hands clasped to her face as I leave her on the terrace to return to my room. I grab a bottle of wine from the table as I pass.
My heart may be broken and cold, but I feel infinitely better.
Please, please, I'm begging you let me know what you think! I think I've only got a few more chapters left in me for this story. I really hope you like this chapter, this was one of my favorites to write.