Centaur Legacy (7 page)

The flush on my face felt
bright red. Just minutes before I was sure I’d get him to set his
rules aside, and now I believed
he
to be the more persuasive of the two of us. “So
let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I’m okay with getting
married.” He didn’t even try to hide his excitement as a wide smile
emerged. “When I get married, I want my family there. Why couldn’t
we go forward with the assumption that we’ll be married when we get
back to South Carolina and take advantage of being on a
pre-honeymoon now?”

Drake cocked his head to the side as if
he were considering it. “Let’s say I agree, what’s to say we don’t
end up in Athens, or Paris or Centauride before we get to South
Carolina? I would have stolen your virtue beforehand, or your
family may have already promised you to another. We’d both end up
with broken hearts and a debt to pay. No, we make it official
first.”

His phrase, “stolen your virtue,” hit
me hard. I’d never pretended to be innocent. I wasn’t promiscuous
by any means, but I’d been with someone before. Why wouldn’t he
have assumed that? It wasn’t the 1950’s – people had sex. I was
twenty-two, a fully functioning adult, so why did I suddenly feel
embarrassed – maybe even a little unworthy?

I tried to tell myself there was
nothing to be embarrassed about, but when I looked into his eyes,
my voice wouldn’t work. I got a glimpse of myself through his eyes;
would I look the same with the imperfections he didn’t know I had?
I couldn’t say anything, at least not tonight. My stomach knotted,
and it felt like a bucket of ice had been poured on me.

I’d find a way to bring it up casually,
tomorrow. I tried to keep my voice from giving me away, “Okay,
well, I guess I’ll get some sleep.”

He eyed me suspiciously; he couldn’t
read my mind. Right now I wished that he could; I wished that he
could see the truth, so I wouldn’t have to say it and see his
reaction to it. No wonder my brother Brent had all but freaked out
when he found out I’d dated people. No wonder Centaurs all got
married so young. I’m an idiot. I should have known, or at least
asked the question.

This had never come up in any of
Zandra’s lessons when I was held captive learning the Centaur
history. Maybe she didn’t think to preach about pre-marital sex
because it just wasn’t done by Centaurs. Most married before they
ever got the chance to learn anything about their partner. I
wondered if I could even marry Drake if I’d been with someone else?
He told me marriage unites two souls; could those souls be united
if one was tainted?

“Cami, are you okay?” Drake leaned over
to me and placed his hand on my forearm. I looked down at his hand
and was suddenly scared. Could I lose him over something I’d done
before I even knew about the rules? He squeezed my forearm gently,
“Cami, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I couldn’t do it; my mind was racing in
all different directions. What if, after I told him, he didn’t want
me anymore? What would I do then? I put my back to Drake, grabbed a
pillow that I could hug close to me, and shut my eyes. “Nothing’s
wrong. I’m just tired. We’ve got a lot of walking to do
tomorrow.”

A soft knock at the door sounded before
he could pull anything out of me, “Room Service.”

I wasn’t hungry. Drake ate then shut
off the television and all the lights. He spooned in directly
behind me and whispered, “Sweet dreams.”

I’d tell him tomorrow. Conversation
between us had been easy the last three days walking for hours. It
would be much easier to bring up while we looked for Zethus. A
single tear escaped, slid down my face, and landed on the sheet. If
he rejected me, I could take his rejection better in the daylight,
better in the open. If after I told him, he changed his mind, I
wouldn’t be strong enough here, in this room, all alone.

(Camille – The Pasture of
Thessaly, Southern Ireland)

Drake and I left the hotel early – like
“before birds were chirping” early. By the afternoon, I was
exhausted. My mood was gloomy from the constantly overcast skies
and my inability to bring up the question that had been eating away
at me since last night. I’d thought of at least five clever ways to
insert it into our conversation, but each time I had an opening, I
chickened out. I kept telling myself if he loved me, he’d
understand. But a small part of me wasn’t willing to risk losing
him. I hadn’t been this nervous about anything in my life; not even
being kidnapped had instilled the kind of fear I had at the thought
of Drake rejecting me.

By late afternoon I knew I had to stop
obsessing over something I’d done that I couldn’t undo. Either
Drake would accept it or he wouldn’t. I forced myself to pay
attention to why we were here in the first place. During the course
of the day, I think we had met every farmer and sheepherder in the
whole valley. No one had ever heard of Zethus, and none gave us the
reaction from his name like we’d gotten our very first day. No one
seemed the least bit interested in the two of us traipsing around
the countryside, either.

I had a blister the size of a quarter
on my heel, but I didn’t want to stop. I told myself if it popped,
maybe it wouldn’t hurt so badly, and the pain in my foot helped
mask the ache in my heart. Drake was attuned to my solemn mood, and
I could tell he wanted me to snap out of it when he said, “I’m
bushed. You ready to call it a day and head back to
town?”

I nodded, “We’re running out of
terrain. Maybe we were wrong. Maybe the pasture is bigger than we
thought.” I could feel we were in the right place, but it was
disappointing every time we heard someone tell us they’d never
heard of Zethus. Our search had been all through the area we
believed to be the pasture of Thessaly, including three pubs along
our route today.

Drake’s resolve refused to waiver,
“We’ll find him.”

I hated the doubt I felt about this
place, but it helped to keep my mind off the question I really
needed answered. “What if he’s not here?”

Drake’s mood kept pace with mine when
he answered, “Then Zandra will eventually find us and take us back
to her little house of horrors.”

“I mean, what if Zethus is dead? Maybe
he moved away? Maybe the people we met lied to us?”

“I don’t know, Love. I feel like this
is the right place. Since we got here, I’ve felt a connection to
this place, but . . . I don’t know. Let’s head back to town and get
a bite to eat.” Drake wrapped his arm around me, and his touch
eased some of the anxiety bottled up inside me.

As we topped a small hill on our way
back to the car, we stumbled across a small sun-faded metal bed and
breakfast sign pointing to a little stone house, literally in the
middle of nowhere. Drake stopped once it was in clear view and
said, “Listen, it’s been a long day. We’ve got a change of clothes
in the backpack. Why don’t we see if they have a room
here?”

Relief filled me. The house’s exterior
looked like it had been built by hand, one stone at a time. It set
on a dirt lane with beautiful yellow flowers at least five feet
high flanking it on both sides. I was exhausted, my heel throbbed
from the blister, and I wasn’t sure I could face our hotel room
after last night. I wrapped both arms around him and laid my head
against his chest, “You just made my day.”

Drake’s hands patted my back. “The
sooner we ask if they have a room, the sooner we can get off our
feet. Let’s go.”

There was a one-lane dirt road leading
up to it with potholes big enough to hide a small sports car. We
were still at least two miles from where we’d left our car, so they
might think us strange arriving on foot. When we got closer to the
house, I looked to see if a sign hung on the porch. The one we saw
up by the road had seen better days; the lettering was . . . faded.
I worried that this might no longer be a bed and
breakfast.

Drake walked up the slate steps with
me. I knocked on the door tentatively, and sure enough, an elderly
woman welcomed us. “Well, hallo! Can I help you?”

Drake answered the cheerful woman, but
something had changed in his voice. “Hi. We were. . .” He gently
tugged my arm and angled his body so he was standing in front of
me. Drake eased a step back, away from the woman, easing me back
toward the steps. “We were wondering if we needed a
reservation.”

“How did you two find this place?” She
asked in a kind tone, but her attention was on me and not Drake
standing directly in front of her.

I peeked around his shoulder, not sure
what to make of his actions. “We were looking for a distant
relative, but got a little farther from town than we had planned.
We were headed back but saw your sign. Do you have any rooms
available tonight?”

The woman’s smile was warm, “My family
has lived here for generations. Who are you looking
for?”

“Chiron. . . Zethus Chiron.”

She eyed me suspiciously, her tone no
longer welcoming. “Zethus has been dead for years. What did you
want with him?”

My heart plunged. Four days of walking
in the wet drizzle for absolutely nothing. I looked at Drake and
saw the same defeat I was feeling. She had asked us both the
question, but I answered, “I just wanted to meet him. My. . . a . .
. grandmother had mentioned him.”

The old woman was sharp. Her eyes
narrowed when she asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m Angela . . I mean, I’m Angela
Chiron’s daughter, Camille Strayer.”

An angry look shot across the old
woman’s hardened face, “I’d keep that name to yourself.”

“Strayer?”

“Chiron! Zethus did no’ win any
popularity contests. He was more beast than man, and people in
these parts do no’ miss him. Your grandmother does no’ have any
friends here, either.”

Drake took a more pronounced step
protectively in front of me, “I’m sorry, maybe this wasn’t a good
idea. We’ll be on our way. No disrespect was intended.” Drake began
backing away, keeping his body covering mine with his arms out to
the sides. He gingerly backed down the few steps to the ground,
blocking me the entire time. He refused to take his attention off
the old woman. An unexpected downpour came out of nowhere, and in
seconds we were completely drenched.

The old woman yelled, “You don’t have
the good sense to carry an umbrella? Americans! Get in here before
you drown!”

I would have leaped forward when she
offered, but Drake held his ground, still standing in front of me.
“Ma’am, what is your family name?”

“It’s shelter – get in here before I
turn my back on you and leave you outside with the
livestock!”

My teeth were already chattering, my
blistered heel was throbbing, and I couldn’t understand Drake’s
reaction to the old woman. I pleaded with him, “Drake, maybe just
for a minute?”

Drake answered in a normal tone, but we
were far enough away there was no threat of the woman hearing.
“She’s a Centauride, and she’s not alone. This could be an
ambush.”

“It doesn’t sound like she likes my
grandmother any more than I do. It’s not an ambush. Let’s go
inside. Please?”

Drake straightened his posture and
projected his voice, “Ma’am, you are a Centauride. I can feel the
other Centaurs near. Will you give me your assurance you mean us no
harm?”

“If I meant you harm, you’d both be
dead. Get in ou’ of the rain.” She turned her back on us and walked
into the house.

As we made our way through the doorway
and into the kitchen, I saw two blurs rushing our way.

The first stopped at Drake and flung
him to the floor. Drake caught himself in mid-air, turning so that
he would fall back first, then did this judo-karate-looking move
and launched himself back into the air. His feet connected with the
other man’s chest and flung the unsuspecting attacker into the wall
beside an ancient stove.

I was so in shock with what I was
watching that I didn’t realize someone had grabbed both my arms
behind me and was applying pressure trying to get me to the floor.
After being an unsuspecting victim of Zandra for the last three
months, I wasn’t about to let it happen again. I let my body drop
easily to the floor, then did the strongest scissor kick of my
life, and knocked my attacker’s legs out from under him while I
rolled free.

He was as surprised as I was when he
landed right in the spot on the floor he’d tried to force me on to.
I was on top of him faster than a heartbeat with my hiking boot at
the base of his skull and my hands yanking on each of his ears,
trying to pull them free of his head. No one in the room was more
astonished with my action or speed than I was.

When I turned my attention back to
Drake, he’d gotten the upper hand and had his attacker in a full
headlock. Drake’s muscular arm bulged, cutting off the man’s oxygen
while my prisoner screamed like a little girl. The old woman was on
the opposite side of the room and held up one hand, speaking so
quietly I wasn’t sure if I’d actually heard her say,
“Enough.”

I looked at Drake, and he loosened his
grip, allowing his attacker to get air but not releasing him. I did
the same to mine, still keeping a clamp-like grip on my attacker’s
ears, but reducing the pressure. She gave us a forced smile, “They
were merely going to search you for weapons. Given your skills, I
think if you had weapons, you might have used them by now. Let them
up, and I’ll get some tea.”