Ch 11: Safe Harbor

Ana all too light in his arms, Felix strode with confidence, kicking in the door with a violent strike. Moving up the twelve steps to the main floor with the lightness of a panther, he scanned the living room with sharp eyes. They had redesigned and moved since he'd left. The room was larger, reflecting more of her gentle style and taste. Glancing to his left, he felt a small smile tug his lips at the flame that roiled with the light of a jester in the hearth backed by a smiling sun. Flaming to life, the small eyes looked at Felix with shock.

"Felix? What—What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Calcifer." Felix reluctantly stopped in front of the hearth, his eyes flicking back to the stairs every couple of seconds.

"We knew someone had sent the summons, but we didn't think it was you. You know Howl's gonna—Who is that?" Calcifer's tone switched from rampaging scold to a shocked dread, shooting up a comical octave when he finally noticed Ana lying unconscious in Felix's arms. The flame's mobile mouth hung open and, for one of the few times in Felix's life, Calcifer was speechless. If the situation hadn't been so dire, he would have laughed. Finally, Calcifer got a hold of himself, his mouth twisting as he pinned wry eyes on Felix.

"You didn't get her pregnant, did you?"

"Wh—What?" Felix sputtered, his brow furrowing furiously. "Of course not! What's the matter with you, Calcifer?"

"Just wondering," the flame said, his shoulders shrugging off Felix's outrage. The mage shook his head, trying valiantly to regain his focus.

"My father, where is he, Calcifer?"

"In the library," the flame promptly replied. But just as Felix started striding away, Calcifer quickly shouted after him, "But I wouldn't talk to him right away if I were you. I'd find your mom first, get her in your corner before you take on your dad. Besides, she's the one to go to about your girlfriend there." The flame finished his final jab with a snicker, and Felix felt his eyes narrowing.

"She and I are not romantically connected, Calcifer," Felix growled through clenched teeth. "But I have no qualms about emptying the rainwater bucket over your sorry little head." With that, he turned with a whip of his cloak, catching the flame's wagging tongue out of the corner of his eye. Some things, at least, never changed. Moving up the stairs with the same grace as he'd scaled the first, he made his way quickly down the long corridors of the inner castle. Felix hadn't bothered to ask where his mother was; Sophie was a creature of habit, far more so than her husband. At this time of day, she was always in her garden.

Striding up another set of stairs, Felix used his shoulder to push open the ajar door leading out onto the balcony that had been there since before he was born. And there his mother was, humming as she knelt amongst her pikinies, weeding with patience and nurturing with the inherent skill of a mother. The breeze tugged gently at her starfire silver hair and her pretty but grubby lavender shirt. His mother had stolen a pair of his father's trousers, as she often did whenever she wished to get dirty in her garden. His father had often demanded, with some exasperation, that she merely get her own pants. But she maintained that it was unladylike to own a pair of trousers, and continued to filch her husband's with the lithe fingers of a thief. Unbidden, Felix's heart melted a little. It had been a long time since he'd seen Sophie Leah Hatter Jenkins Pendragon. And he had missed his mother so.

"Mother," he said, speaking more gently than he had intended. Like the forest, there was something about Sophie's garden that encouraged quiet. She looked up from her toils quickly, for there was only one person in the world who addressed her as such. A smile illuminated her pretty face as Sophie caught sight of her son, standing quickly and hurrying to his side, her old boots soundless in the smoothly groomed grass. It dimmed slightly as she saw the woman lying limp in his arms. But it was concern that darkened her eyes, not suspicion.

"She is ill?" Sophie asked, her voice very much the same low, soft timbre it had been over twenty years ago. Gently laying one hand on her son's upper arm, she pressed the other to Ana's forehead. Whatever she felt was not reassuring, as her brow furrowed and her lips pursed.

"It's complicated," Felix faltered, unsure of how much he wanted to, or even could, explain. However, his answer didn't sooth his mother, whose soft brown eyes shot up hawk-like to his. Her eyes shifted askance to his as one hand fell away from Ana's forehead and the other tightened on his arm, her expression imperceptibly changed.

"Is this woman carrying my grandchild, Felix Gideon Pendragon?" Felix pressed his eyes closed on a groan, his head dropping back. What had he done to earn this ridiculous reputation among his family? And she had gone so far as to use his full name. There was no way he deserved this.

"Mother!" he said, aghast and insulted. Apparently his reaction appeased Sophie, as the huntress look disappeared, and she was again the concerned healer. "She is only a good friend, and very injured at that," Felix added, hoping that was enough to warrant his mother's concern. Sophie nodded, briefly pressing two fingertips to Ana's temple before nudging Felix back inside.

"Take her to my study. While I tend to her, you can go and explain to your father what's going on." Leading the way with comfortable grace, Sophie didn't see the wince in Felix's eyes. He knew he was going to have to face his father at some point; that didn't make him dread that endeavor any less. "Don't worry, Felix," Sophie continued, leaving her son with the sneaking suspicion that she had sensed his thoughts, "your father will understand." He could only hope he was that lucky.

His mother's study was simple and sturdy, with the small touches of elegance that surprised and delighted. Much like the woman herself. Busily braiding back her shoulder-length silver hair, Sophie watched Felix lay Ana on the long couch with eagle eyes. Nervous and afraid for Ana's life despite all he'd done to save it, Felix knelt beside the crouch briefly, gently brushing back her hair as he held her hand. "It's going to be alright, Ana," he murmured. He had been promising that to her quite a bit recently. He only hoped that his promise would prove valid. Standing slowly, he turned to leave. Sophie moved quickly, softly wrapping her arms around his waist as she rested her head over his heart. Her son was as tall as his father, a fact Sophie would often jokingly rue. Without hesitation, her son returned the embrace.

"Welcome home, Felix."

"It's good to be home, Mother." Releasing each other, Sophie allowed Felix on his way as she knelt beside the couch. Just as Felix reached the door, his mother spoke as she busily checked Ana's pulse in her wrist to the clock ticking on the wall.

"Felix? What is her name?"

"Ana," he murmured, the echoes of his words sliding over the click of a closing door.

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Making his way to his father's study, Felix tried to steady his dropping heart with a deep breath, but it did little to ease him. The ramifications for interrupting the Travels would no doubt be severe; the tradition was steeped heavily in history, and wasn't broken easily. Only the death of an immediate family member should warrant a mage's return before the seven years were at an end. He could only hope his father agreed with his reasoning for the summons.

Felix knocked on the closed oak door with polite restraint. The command "Enter," slid through the thick door in Howl's deep tone, and Felix briefly squeezed his eyes closed. He was no child to be reprimanded. But to lose his father's respect would break his heart. With a huff, he opened the door.

Unlike his mother's study, the library was masculine, messy, and magnificent. It was very much his father's domain. Howl wasn't behind the heavy ebony desk that was strewn with papers. As his eyes adjusted to the low, mystical lighting, Felix could see his father skimming through a book in one of the rows, his dark head bent as he studied the pages by the candle's flame glowing over his head. Felix warranted but a glance at the floating candle; he had used many during his schooling days.

"Father," he murmured, again dropping his voice in reverence to the atmosphere. Howl's head whipped up, his father snatching the reading glasses from his nose as his pinned his blue eyes on his son. Forcing back the urge to swallow anxiously, Felix drew back his shoulders and met his father's powerful gaze with one of his own. Tossing the book back on the shelf with a characteristic carelessness that would have made Sophie wince, Howl tucked his glasses into the pocket of his waistcoat as he silently strode to his desk. Felix shifted to let him pass, following his father obediently, but not meekly. He hadn't made a mistake. He had to believe that. Felix left a chair between them to maintain his pride.

Instead of dropping down behind the desk, Howl leaned back against it, his arms crossed over his chest while one leg was cocked back. "Care to explain what you're doing here? You're four years early." His father's voice wasn't sharp, but just shy of it. His hard stance broke on a sigh, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose as he pressed his eyes closed. Opening them again, Howl looked back at his son with weary, disapproving eyes. "We both know I've never held much stock in the rules, but this was important, Felix. You didn't get some woman heavy with child, did you?" The last statement was said with a sort of wary worry, and had Felix unsuccessfully biting back a growl.

"No! I am no some philanderer who carelessly impregnates some hapless woman who crosses my path! But you're right, Father. The Travels are important," Felix quickly corrected, leaning his hands on the back of one of the chairs in front of the deck to emphasize his seriousness as he swallowed back his anger. "And you know that I would never have dreamed of returning home yet had I not had a reason, a damn good one, at that." His eyes intent, his father leaned forward.

"Then by all means, enlighten me, Felix. What is going on?" Straightening on a sigh, Felix moved around the chair, dropping into it with an exhaustion he refused to acknowledge. He hadn't left the battle unscathed, either.

"The crossing to the north a few days ago. Did you sense it?" Felix looked up to see his father's eyes clear. He was listening.

"Yes, of course. I assumed when no more activity came from that area, it was a done matter." Felix shook his head, unaware of how the fatigue was showing on his face.

"You didn't sense anything more because it wasn't a wizard that crossed. Well, not exactly." At Howl's lifted brow, Felix continued. "It was a woman, with bolts of power and absolutely no training. And she had the unfortunate luck of crossing over into a town inhabited by Arsalans." A wicked light entered Howl's eyes, but Felix had no energy to revel in his father's shared opinion of Apollo's mercenaries. He merely kept drudging through the words, the images of their journey flashing in his mind.

"They're determined to catch her, and Apollo's determined to have her. They threatened the village should I not turn her over," he said as he lifted his gaze to his father's. The two men looked at eachother, and understanding flowed heavy. Felix had done what he had to do. "So we ran. Into the forest, heading south. We had a good lead, but the Arsalans snuck up on us, I'm not quite sure how. Anyway, they ambushed us. Separated us. I created a distraction, hoping she would run. Instead she… she went ballistic. A moving, fighting whirlwind. She took down five Arsalans in a matter of minutes." Howl's brow again raised, this time impressed.

"Her gift had broken free like a hurricane. And just as she faced down the last one, her power… went out." Felix's soft-spoken words were uttered with the same empty pain and fear he'd felt then. He didn't look up to the see the expression on his father's face. He wouldn't have understood it even if he had seen it. Instead, Felix kept his eyes on the clock on the desk as he continued his tale. "She collapsed, and hasn't been fully conscious since. That was three days ago, during the storm." Lacing his hands together and leaning on his knees, Felix looked up.

"She's dying, Father. I can't save her. I can feel her slipping away. I needed your help. If Ana dies…" He couldn't finish the sentence, but he did see the flash of recognition and question flame in his father's eyes as he moved towards Felix. But just as Howl opened his mouth, they both sensed Sophie running up the stairs. Their heads turning as one to the door, they watched Sophie burst into the room.

"Howl! Felix! Come quickly! I'm losing her!" The three flew out of the library and into the hallway, their stampeding footsteps drowning out Calcifer's shouts of bewilderment echoing from below. They burst into Sophie's study, and Felix felt his stomach shoot to his feet at the sight that greeted him. Ana's spirit, her gift and life, was bleeding out of her in great streams of green light, pooling briefly on the floor before evaporating into the air, leaving behind the scent of vanilla and gladiolus. Rushing forward, Felix slid to his knees beside the sofa, pressing his fingers to her temples, closing his eyes fiercely as he used his own spirit to dam hers. But the strain proved too much, and Felix felt his own consciousness wavering. Gritting his teeth, he tries to push harder, but he didn't have enough to give.

"Felix!" his father barked as he gripped Felix's shoulder. Slowly opening his eyes, Felix fought the gray that sparkled in his vision. "Enough, son," his father murmured. Howl gently pulled him to his feet before turning to Ana. His mother materialized at Felix's side, stroking a hand down his arm and over his cheek.

"You've done enough, Felix. Too much, or I never would have asked. Go on now, rest. Your father and I will take care of her." She turned away, but Felix didn't budge.

"But she—"

"She'll be fine. We won't lose her. Now go on." With that, Sophie moved to the other side of her husband, her hands already bathed in the violet light of her magic. Left with no option but to obey, Felix turned, stumbling out of the room. He had only closed the door when he felt his legs start to collapse. A familiar arm caught Felix before he hit the ground, quickly slinging his left arm over broad shoulders as he helped Felix to his old room.

"Never could resist playing the hero," his old friend murmured.

"You know me. Gotta keep my armor nice and shiny," Felix muttered before passing out.

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I know, this isn't the explanation I promised. Next chapter, Westernaires' honor!! But I felt it important to remind that Felix is also messed up, and he took some hard hits from the ambush too. However, this chapter and the ones to come are one of the things I'm most terrified of. I can't tell you how worried I am about the character critiques every reader and their Aunt Myrtle, not to mention their Granpappy Louis, are certain to throw at my doorstep about my portrayal of Howl, Sophie, Calcifer, etc. Howl, as expected, is the one I'm most worried about, and the most difficult to write about.

Please be gentle!! This is a lot harder than you think!! The one person entitled to (you know who you are) has given her stamp of approval. Another thing to keep in mind is that those characters, especially Howl and Sophie, have changed. They are parents, concerned parents who want only the best for their son. The vagueness is going to dim from here on out—I know I've ruthlessly exploited your patience up till now. Things will start making sense and people will start being introduced. And don't forget to review!! So hope you like it!!!