Centaur Legacy (5 page)

Still distracted by the strange pull of
the valley we’d walked away from, I looked back over my shoulder to
catch one more glimpse, and I wasn’t paying attention to where I
was walking. Drake was already twenty feet ahead of me at the car.
I took two steps directly into a peat bog, was waist deep and
sinking before I realized what had happened. “Drake!!”

He turned around and saw me stuck in
the bog. He looked at the ground and saw the outline, carefully
making his steps back to me. I tried to walk out of the muck and
back to the solid soil I had just come from, but the more I moved,
the further I sank. A feeling of panic gripped me. “Drake, I’m
sinking!” I struggled to get closer to the side but felt the bog
pulling me down further with every move.

His voice was calm, “Don’t move, Cami.
I’m right here.” Drake kept his feet firmly on the ground while he
reached out to me. I was only four feet from the edge, but I
couldn’t reach his hand; I had sunk too far.

Images flashed through my mind, not the
comforting ones you’re supposed to see when your life flashes
before your eyes. I relived in a fraction of a second all the
things that had scared me most in my life: the fear of the ocean’s
undertow pulling me hard out to sea, the first time glancing over
the side of a twenty-story high rise, a brown tarantula staring at
me from the banister on my front porch, riding a galloping horse on
the beach that refused to stop. . .

I cried out, not sure if it was from
the images or the fact that this peat bog threatened to swallow me
whole. Beads of sweat peppered my brow while another ear-splitting
scream escaped me.

Drake squatted down closer to the
ground, extending his hand all the way to me. I grasped his
fingers. “Okay, I’ve got you. Just relax. I won’t let you
go.”

His fingers steadied me as I let him
gently pull my hands to him; I took a step in his direction but
lost my footing. I tried to pull my back foot free of the muck, but
the bog was holding me, refusing to let go. I felt my fingers
slipping. Panic overtook me as I tried desperately to free my foot,
only to find out my struggle took me deeper.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Drake tugged the
tips of my fingers in his grasp hard and got a better grip on my
hands. “On the count of three, I’m going to pull. Are you
ready?”

I nodded that I was, as the fear
threatened to envelop me. I heard, “One. . . two. . . three.” Still
clasping just my hands, he pulled me smoothly free of the muck, out
of the bog, and to his side on the ground. I lay on the ground, my
pulse rapid, my hands shaking. I looked down at myself: the
waterline had been just inches below my shoulders.

I grabbed hold of him as he cradled me
on the ground. He stoked my hair and crooned, “You’re okay, Cami.
You’re okay.”

We had heard about the bogs and had
been warned by the hotel staff to be careful of them. But they told
us the bogs would be clearly marked and fenced off. This one was in
the open. I didn’t know how I could have missed it to begin
with.

When described to us, I had thought
they were a little like the swamps that surrounded Zandra’s home,
but after being in one, it was more like quicksand. I sat on the
ground, wrapped in Drake’s arms, thankful that he had reacted so
quickly. His strength was as much of a surprise to me as finding
myself free.

A friendly voice came from behind the
car. “Welcome home. Was just coming to give you a hand.”

The icy air intensified the cold I was
already feeling. Drake stood up, cocked his head slightly to the
side, but didn’t return the stranger’s greeting.

When the man was only ten yards away he
asked, “So, which herd are you from?”

Shivers took hold of my body. I
couldn’t have spoken if I had to. Drake cautiously held out his
hand to the stranger, “The Nash. And you?”

“Barber. We don’t get many tourists ou’
this way.”

Tourists? Was he serious? I couldn’t
get my teeth to stop chattering long enough to say anything to
him.

Drake grinned, “So, we’ve
found it. This
is
the pasture of Thessaly?”

“Aye. That bog was meant to keep humans
out of the pasture. Most don’t like the feel of the place, so they
turn around before the top o’ the hill, but there are several bogs
scattered near the crest of the hill as a precaution. Watch your
step.”

“Our hotel told us any bogs would be
marked and fenced off. You’re saying there are more?”

“These bogs were constructed with
Centaur magic. They reposition themselves in front of humans and
hold them tight until a Centaur comes to release them and send them
on their way.”

His words echoed in my head. I was a
Centauride. Why had the bog positioned itself in front of me? Then
doubt began to creep into my mind. Everyone just assumed I was a
Centauride, but I couldn’t do all of the things the others could
do. Was I really William’s daughter? Drake asked the question my
lips wouldn’t form.

“Barber, Camille is a Centauride. Why
would it have held her?”

“I don’t know, Nash. Maybe it didn’t
recognize her bloodline.” Barber’s eyes narrowed, as if he wanted
to accuse me of something, but changed his mind. Instead of talking
to me, he continued to address Drake, “She’s part of your
herd?”

Without hesitation, Drake answered,
“Yes.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know. It used to catch
the Tak herd, too, but they’re long gone.” The man glanced at me
but turned his attention back to Drake. “Be on the lookout. There
are more. If this one got her, pay attention to where she’s
walking. Could have just been bad luck. A few humans live in the
pasture. They keep to themselves. Don’t do anything to draw
attention to yourself while you’re sightseeing.”

Drake nodded, “We won’t.”

The Centaur from the Barber herd gave a
quick wave of his hand and walked away without another
word.

When we got to the car, the shivers had
turned to near convulsions. Drake found some clothes for me to
change into in a backpack we had stuffed in the trunk for an
emergency. As soon as he started the car, he had the heat blaring,
handed me his jacket and asked, “Are you okay?”

I nodded my head through chattering
teeth. Drake looked worried, “I know a way to get you warmed up.”
Drake leaned over to the passenger seat, wove his fingers into my
hair and gave me the most passionate kiss I’d ever received. I’d
heard the expression, “made my toes curl,” but this was my first
experience with the phenomena.

His hand slid down to my shoulder then
glided down my side, our mouths locked tight as I felt sparks of
desire raining all over my body. Within minutes I no longer cared
that I wasn’t wearing shoes or socks, that I smelled of decaying
vegetation, or that I was soaked to the bone – none of it mattered.
My heart was racing. Drake eased his lips away from mine, “I hope
you’re feeling warmer, because I feel like I’m on fire.”

My hands grabbed the back of his head,
pulling him back to me, “Don’t stop.”

Drake smiled shyly in response and gave
me one more quick kiss. “Let’s get you back to the hotel. This has
been enough excitement for one day.”

(William Strayer –
Camille’s Father, Charleston, SC)

Camille and Drake had made it. They’d
been in Ireland for three days, and as far as I could tell, their
departure had gone unnoticed. I’d done everything I could for the
two of them. They had passports, Euros, credit cards and each
other. Just a few more loose ends to tie up and I was sure they’d
be safe, for now. Gretchen tapped lightly on the door to my study.
She almost never knocked. I waited for her to say something; her
eyes were brimming with tears. I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Beau’s packing.” She was doing
everything she could to hold back her tears. We’d always been such
a close family, never once being away from each other beyond
business trips. This would be the first time Beau would be away
from home by himself. Even while in college, Beau commuted from
home. She was taking it just as hard as I had expected her
to.

I took a deep breath, “It’s just a few
days.”

She shook her head, “He’s leaving for
good.”

“For good? No, he just needs some time
away. Cami’s safe. He was pretty shaken up over Zandra’s stunt. Now
that we all know she’s safe, he probably just needs to decompress,
to relax. It’s tough to do that here.”

“No, Will, I feel it. He’s leaving
us.”

“Do you want me to have a talk with
him?”

She nodded as her eyes grew glossier
and she pressed her lips together. She was letting her emotions get
the better of her. I stood up and walked to the door of my study;
as I walked past her, Gretchen reached out and grabbed my hand. I
tried to reassure her, “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

Beau’s birthday had been last weekend.
We wanted to go out for dinner to celebrate, but he said he didn’t
feel well. Even his brothers couldn’t coax him out of the house.
Gretchen had an uncanny way of seeing the future of the stock
market, but she’d never been able to get a clear view of our sons’
futures. I wondered if that was what had brought on the tears – the
unknown.

I walked upstairs, and Beau was just
zipping his suitcase. “Hi, Dad. All set. Sun and sand for a full
week. I talked to Bart; he’s going to cover my clients for me while
I’m gone. If he gets too busy, Ben said he could pitch in,
too.”

That was just like Beau. He was the
oldest, always the responsible one, setting the example for his
brothers. “That’s good news, son. Your mother’s a little concerned.
What prompted your vacation?”

Beau didn’t look at me when he
answered, “I don’t know. . .it just seemed like a good time to
go.”

“Why don’t you take Brent with you? I’m
sure he’d like to meet some of Cami’s friends, too.”

“Brent can’t stand humans. He’s the
last one I’d take with me.”

“What about Bart?”

“Dad, I’ve already got my ticket. My
flight goes in a couple hours. I’ll be fine. I just need a
break.”

“It’s just a ticket, Beau. If you’d
given me a little more notice, you could have taken our plane. Or
we all could have gone.” Beau forced a smile at me. Gretchen was
right; there was something he wasn’t telling us.

“I tell you what; I don’t want you on a
commercial flight. Let me make some phone calls, and I’ll arrange
for a jet. You’ll get there faster, and you don’t have to worry
about who’ll be sitting next to you.”

Beau shook his head, smirking at me. I
imagine he thought I was just being over-protective. “Dad, I’ll be
fine. It’ll be fun to be a human for a week.”

I cringed. I tried not to let on how
much I didn’t want him to go. Part of being a Centaur is to know
when to go out into the world. He didn’t need to tell me; I could
feel it in the air. He was done with our rules, our laws; Beau was
ready for his own life.

I could never say it out loud, but in
some small way – I envied him. The Centaur responsibilities could
be stifling, and one misstep could have ill effects for
generations. But Beau was my first born; he still had a year of
eligibility.

He was stubborn. I had negotiated with
another father for a wife for him; the whole deal was set, but Beau
refused. He had some stupid notion that a Centauride had to choose
him without pressure from her family, or he wouldn’t accept. He
told me I was not to “find” him a wife. If he were to carry on the
bloodline, he would leave it to fate and not to my
wallet.

“Understand, son. There is one thing
you can help me with, as long as you’re going.”

“Sure, Dad. What?”

“Zandra’s still in the area. She
doesn’t know that Camille has left, and I don’t want her to dig so
much that she finds where they’ve gone. I chartered a jet for
Camille and Drake under a false name, and I gave the pilots
cash.”

“I’m not following, Dad.”

“I’d like for Zandra to believe that
Drake and Camille have returned to San Diego. The only way I can do
that is if I charter a jet with a passenger manifest of two people
flying to San Diego.”

Beau nodded, “Sure, Dad. But I don’t
need to take anyone with me. You set it up, and I can hand them a
little extra cash to change the passenger list from one to two. I’d
rather take this trip solo.”

“I understand. Give me an hour or so;
I’ll have the plane meet you at the Mount Pleasant airport.” As I
got a few feet away from his room, I had an overwhelming urge to
turn back. If this was our good-bye, there were so many things I
wanted him to know. I stood in the hallway arguing whether to go
back. I decided not to. No matter what he chose, he would always be
my son. If he chose to abandon the Centaurs and live a human
existence, I wouldn’t cut ties. The traditional rules only applied
to Zeus’s Centaurs – they did not apply to me or my
herd.

All those times I’d cursed my
existence, hiding my identity, blending in with the rest of society
. . . I’d brought my sons up as if they were Zeus’s Centaurs, but
we were of the Lost Herd. We were not subject to Zeus’s laws, and
in the very near future – others would know us.