Centaur Redemption (Touched Series) (13 page)

Drake and I found the room at the bottom of the steps.  It was tastefully ornate.  A luxurious mahogany table stood in the center of the room.  The wood grain was deep and the polish on the table brilliant.  Seven aged leather wingback chairs stood at attention around the table, and a larger chair, a little like a throne of the same color leather set at the head of the table.  A life-sized Centaur portrait hung on the wall behind each of the chairs.  Each of the portraits had a human torso on a horse’s body.  Near the bottom of each painting a name had been painted in elegant script.  I recognized the names from one of my endless lessons at Zandra’s estate:  Adolcio, Schwieken, Owens, Barber, Fjord, Chiron and Tak.  These were the families born of the seven original mares in the pasture of Thessaly. 

Behind the chair at the head of the table was a life-sized portrait of Zandra.  It was the only portrait painted in human form and looked like it had been commissioned when she was my age.  I wondered, if she was the Chairman, who was the Chiron representative on the Council?  Was Angelo also a member of the Centaur Council?  I hadn’t seen him upstairs, but I hadn’t been looking for him, either.

Surprised that the Tak line would still be included in this Council Chamber, I had a tough time pulling my eyes away from the portrait.  I wondered if I was looking at Rupert.  Surely no other would have found his place on this wall.  He was the last known member of the Tak line, at least until recently.

Modern amenities were sprinkled around the room.  A crystal chandelier rivaled anything I had seen in even the most elegant hotels.  Matching lighting sconces were evenly spaced between the paintings on the walls.  Together they gave off enough illumination to rival the sun, giving the chamber a welcoming homey feeling.

The walls were a bold crimson color and were traced in mahogany trim that precisely matched the table.  The same mahogany hugged the ceiling in an elaborate multi-layered crown molding.  A museum curator would have been able to wander around the room for hours picking out details I was surely missing.

Drake’s steady hand lay gently over my shoulder as he whispered encouraging words to me in the otherwise empty room.  “You can do this.”

I didn’t feel the confidence that he did, but I refused to say it aloud.  Instead I offered, “
We
can do this.”

Drake smiled, “We wanted an audience with the Council.  I expected them to grant the audience; I never expected them to grant it in the Council’s private chambers.”

“If they don’t agree, you know, with the whole
live-and-let-live
plan, what do you think they’ll do?”

“I don’t know.  The fact that they granted the audience in their private chambers could mean one of two things.  Either they heard how quickly your brothers subdued the enforcers sent to Cancun, and they didn’t want to take the chance of them going on the offense with the heads of each family in the open, or they wanted to separate you from them because they intend to carry out Zeus’ death warrant and didn’t want you near so you could stop them.”

The hair stood up on my arms.  Drake was right.  Why had I agreed to meet the Council in their private chambers?  We were in Centurion where Will and my brothers wouldn’t be up against a handful of enforcers:  they would be up against . . . hundreds, potentially thousands.  “Drake, what if you’re right?  What if this is a trick to separate us?”

“We didn’t have a choice.  Having an audience with the Centaur Council is rarely granted.”  Drake’s hand gently stroked my arm.  “You can do this.  So far they’ve only heard rumor of you.  I’m sure they’re curious.  I doubt they would have ordered the death of your family if they intended to hear you out.”

I hoped Drake was right.  I still felt nauseous.  My feet were drawn toward the table as my hand absently caressed its smooth surface.  A gruff voice sounded behind me, “A little ostentatious, iz it not?”  French, definitely a French accent.  I pivoted around in a flash.

The man walked in and stood next to the chair in front of the Adolcio portrait.  “Knowing za chairman, she will want to get directly to business and will skip introductions.  I am Pierre.”  The man offered me his hand; when I made a move to shake his, he grasped mine and brought it to his lips.  “It iz my pleazure to make your acquaintance, young Chiron.”  He then turned his attention to Drake.  “You, you are za Warrior everyone whispers about?”

Drake’s posture quickly stiffened as he looked star-struck.  “Yes, yes, sir.  It’s an honor to meet you.”  Drake shook Pierre’s hand vigorously and probably a second or two longer than was customary.

Pierre moved in close to Drake, then kissed both of Drake’s cheeks, “You are my family, young Nash.  It does an old man’s heart good to know hiz children are leaving their mark on za world.  You have made me proud.”

My mind started moving at mach speed.  Drake was of the Nash herd, but Nash wasn’t one of the original family names.  Zandra had told me that hundreds of years ago the herds took on new names so they wouldn’t be too obvious to the humans.  If Pierre believed Drake to be part of his herd, someone must still keep track of which herds belong to which of the original families.

“We haven’t much time.  My bruzerz will be here soon.  What do you two hope to accomplish today?”

I didn’t hesitate, “I am a young Chiron, but I am also a young Tak.  My family has paid their price.  It is time for the Tak family to be welcomed back into Centaur society.  It is time for all Centaurs to band together and take a stand against Zeus’s ridiculous decree.”

Pierre shared a thin smile.  His eyes darted to Drake, then back to me.  I waited for him to comment, but instead he laughed – not a happy laugh, but a dismissive one.  I wanted to make my case to the Centaur Council to compel them to see things from my perspective.  Pierre was giving me the chance to start the meeting with an advocate in the room.  He was willing to listen before all the others arrived.  This was more than I could have hoped for.  I just needed him to see it from the right perspective.

Pierre’s eyes were warm:  no fear shone back at me when I looked at him.  I cleared my throat and began, “Rupert’s children were murdered a millennia ago.  One single Centaur from the Lost Herd survived – Rupert himself.  He watched all of his children from all his Centaur wives slaughtered.  A god took pity on him and allowed him alone to start the Tak line over.  The descendants now should not have to pay for a crime that was paid in full a thousand years ago.”

“My dear, Zeus did not include a. . . what do you call it?  A statute of limitations on hiz decree.  Za Tak line,” his eyes roved to the portrait on the wall, “is still honored in this chamber, but we are not immortal, and we do not go against za wishes of Zeus.”

“Not even if other gods have already gone against his wishes?”

Pierre scoffed.  “What?  No god would go against the wishes of Zeus.”

“Really?  The whole reason for Zeus’s decree is flawed.  Phyllis of the Lost Herd placed a memory in King Sisyphus’s head, telling him how to become immortal, right?”

“Yez, zat is what my fazer told me as a boy.”

“That memory she planted was merely an idea.  How did King Sisyphus cross the River Styx?  He wasn’t a soul.  He could never have boarded the ferry on his own.” 

Pierre looked at me a little sideways as if the thought had never occurred to him.  While he considered this, I didn’t let up, “Phyllis didn’t help him cross the River Styx.  A god had to have helped the King cross the river.  Who has greater blame for humans not dying?”

His answer was dismissive, “Zis proves nusing.”

“Okay, but you have to admit it’s strange that Zeus would decide the whole Tak line would pay the price for one Centauride from the Tak herd simply inserting an idea in a human’s head.  Yet he chose to ignore the fact that the King could not have crossed the river without a god’s help.”

“Za gods are not known for their fairness; zey are only known for swift justice.”

“Not all gods,” I countered.  Pierre’s eyebrows arched, but he didn’t interrupt me.  “If you don’t believe my theory about a god helping King Sisyphus, let’s try another angle.  The reason everyone believed the Tak line had been hunted to extinction a millennia ago was because Zeus permitted all Centaurs to take human form except the Tak line, correct?”

“Yez, it iz my understanding that the only Centaurs who did not transform to look human were of the Tak herd.  It made it easy for za ozer herds to carry out Zeus’s wishes.”

Almost issuing a challenge, I asked, “So how do you explain me?  Or my father?  Or my brothers?  Zeus allowed all other herds other than the Tak line to take human form; how do the Tak members now appear in human form?”

“You poze an intriguing question, young Chiron.  Is zare more?”

“I know how the Tak line has stayed hidden all these years, and it had nothing to do with Centaur magic.  A goddess gave a human,” I struggled for the word, not wanting to betray Katherine’s confidence, “. . . family the power to protect the Tak line.”

“A human family?”

“Yes, a family of Lapiths was granted powers to protect the Tak line.  With all these supernatural influences fighting for the Tak herd, why does the Centaur Council not take a similar stand?”

Pierre took a seat in his chair.  He leaned back heavily, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.  The chair fit him, nearly molding itself to his body.  Without dropping his gaze, he asked, “Young Nash, I am told you were gifted powers of protection, no?”

“Yes, sir.  I am able to protect Cami.  I am able to transform into a warrior.”

Pierre stopped studying the ceiling and asked, “I know your lineage.  You are of my blood, young Nash.  There iz no Tak blood in your body.”

“No, sir, there is none.”

“And you can do zis transformation at will?”

“Yes, sir,” Drake answered earnestly.

“Show me.”

Drake looked around at the Council Chambers.  He backed up several feet, as if sizing up the amount of space required for the transformation.  He closed his eyes.  I worried because he’d never made the change when it wasn’t necessary.  At least he’d never made it when I wasn’t in imminent danger.  Could he transform just because he wanted to?

Drake’s eyes remained closed.  I could see him concentrating, but the little dots of lights did not show themselves on his flesh.  His eyes squinted closed as he tried to make his body morph – still nothing.  Sweat began peppering his brow, but his body refused to cooperate.

Pierre let out a huff.  “It zeams you are not able to change at will, young Nash.”

When Drake’s eyes opened, they looked defeated.  I wanted to defend him.  I could feel Pierre was on our side or at least he wanted to be on our side.  My words came out like rapid fire.  “He’s only changed when he needed to.  Every time I’ve needed a warrior, his body has responded.”

“Hmmm.  I do not believe you.”  His tone for the first time, sounded condescending, as if we were somehow not worthy of his presence.  “I zink za stories I’ve heard were fabricated.  What’s to stop me from ending your life, here. . . now?”  In the blink of an eye, Pierre’s arm was around my neck, my feet dangling in mid-air.  Adrenaline shot through my system as my feet frantically kicked at him.  Although I was being held off the ground in a menacing way, my air wasn’t cut off.  It’s as if Pierre’s arm were acting as a balancing beam for my chin.

While in Cancun, the enforcer, Quinton, had held me off the ground while he attempted to choke the life out of me – that was different.  That wasn’t what Pierre was doing.  Oxygen still flowed freely to my lungs, but from Drake’s vantage point, it must have looked like Pierre was strangling me.

Light flashed from Drake.  Not the little spots that I’d seen pepper his skin before – but a bright light blinded us both as Pierre dropped me to the floor to shield his eyes.  I lunged forward, toward Drake to stay out of reach of Pierre.  Drake’s hands pulled me to his side – his warrior body standing between Pierre and me.  He was a solid seven and a half feet tall, staring menacingly down at Pierre.  One of his hooves gave a solid stomp that shook the chandelier above. 

Pierre gave an elated smile.  He clapped his hands loudly once; it sounded like two dictionaries slamming together in an empty library.  A rumble of laughter echoed in the quiet chamber as an enormous smile took over Pierre’s face.  His hands clapped several more times.  “Bravo, young Nash!  I had to zee it for myself.  Bravo!” 

Pierre wasted no time.  He didn’t look the least bit apprehensive about being near Drake.  Where previously Pierre and Drake had stood eye to eye, Pierre now looked up at Drake in an admiring way.

“Did you just purposely make Drake transform?  Why would you do that?  If the other Council Members walked in right now they would believe we were going to attack.” My mind couldn’t make sense of Pierre’s action.  “Drake, you need to change back.  We need them to hear us out.”

Pierre looked at me and shook his head.  “He must remain in zis form.” 

Just as the question started to form on my lips, Pierre continued, “Za Council cannot deny zat magic was involved, strong magic, maybe even immortal magic.  Zey will listen to you because you are Chiron’s daughter, but they will be open-minded of your request if they zee Chiron’s magic staring at them.  Zis changes everything.  Your grandmozer is Chairman out of respect, but we now have a viable Chiron Centauride to lead the families.  I pledge to follow you if you can convinze my bruzers to do za same.”