Crux (16 page)

Seriously?
I nod, unable to speak.

As we lie on our sides, facing one another, his strong arms wrap around me, and I’m tugged against his broad chest. He buries his nose in my hair and breathes deep. My arms are bundled inside his, and I play with the collar of his shirt. I can hardly believe he wants me.

“I will wait for you,” he whispers in my ear. “I know you’ve been hurt, but you can trust me. You have no idea who you are, what I see.”

“You said you’ve wanted to kiss me for a while?” I still don’t believe him. He hasn’t even known me that long.

“Quite a while.” He eases away, rising to sit cross-legged near me but continues to stare.

“Jeez, I was, like, the poster child for …” Izzy’s description of ‘tragic little waif’ hovers on my lips. “Icky, pitiful—”

“The only girl I saw was hauntingly beautiful, mysterious, and in danger. I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

I let out a deep breath.

Grey bumps my thigh with his knee. “You’ll get it one day. I’ll tell you all the time, even if it takes me ’til I’m eighty. One day, I’ll say, Birdie, you are beautiful, and you will believe me.”

Eighty?
I hear Izzy’s voice again. ‘Trust me. Grey
will
get tired of you.’ “Don’t make promises, Grey. I’m thankful for now, and I’m grateful to you.”

“Grateful?”

Yeah, grateful someone like you would even consider being with someone like me.
“Grateful you came for me, for standing by me.”

“Are you kidding? You’re the best part of my life now. I’m not ever letting you go, and Bird?”

“Yeah?” His words send a shiver through my frame. I sit up and cross my legs so we’re facing each other.

“Don’t run away anymore, please?” He reaches for a strand of my hair. “If you’re going to run somewhere, make sure it’s in my direction.”

“I’ll come to you.”

17

Together in the gym, Grey and I sit and wait for Jeff. I feel like a kid who got in trouble at school and is waiting for the principal to pronounce judgment. I broke a rule, so what will it be? The rack, firing squad, or first class hanging?

His car engine rumbles in the drive before it shuts off. Not two minutes later, Jeff takes a seat on one of the red soccer chairs before us. He laces his fingers under his chin, eyebrows pushing together over an icy stare. “What is the situation between you two?”

I swallow and remain mute.

“Bird and I had a misunderstanding, but we’ve worked it out.” Grey says.

Jeff’s eyes are cold, distant. He’s all business. “Today is December seventh. Winter solstice and the anniversary of Gunnarr Blot is December twenty-first—fourteen days away.” Jeff stands and paces. “The two of you are young, maybe too young for this task. I thought you were ready, but perhaps I only wanted to believe that.”

I open my mouth but shut it again as I see the flinty look in my commander’s eye.

“Perhaps you are simply not up to the challenge after all.”

We’ve worked so hard. My defenses rise and hackles go up.

Jeff’s hands curl into fists as he lowers them to his side. “You are reckless and distracted. You allow your emotions to rule your actions. I won’t send children to war. Alexander the Great was king at twenty!” He doesn’t yell, but his words sound amplified, and they reverberate off the cinderblock walls. “It’s not your age.” He pauses. “Or your skill level, you’ve made remarkable progress. The amulet submits to you faster than any I’ve trained, but …”

Jeff rubs his forehead and pinches his eyebrows together with his thumb and forefinger as if he’s got one heck of a headache. “Birdie, do you realize what you are? As far as I know, Alarr produced visions in only three other Wielders before you, and none with the detail you describe.” He releases his head and throws his hand in the air. “Those visions give you insights, unlock secrets of the past. No one, not even I, have access to that information.
But
your focus is weak, which leaves you vulnerable. This is not a game. Without optimum clarity, you will both be killed.”

My shoulders stiffen. Maybe my initial motivation was guilt over Shondra, or the idea I needed to validate my existence—always ashamed of who and what I was. Whatever the reason, something in me snaps. “Well, you’re right,
and
you’re wrong.” It’s not about those things anymore. I want this for more than just me now.

Jeff’s brow hikes up. He crosses his arms as if daring me to contradict him.

I force myself to stand and bow as we do before each training session to show respect. “I have been distracted and stupid, and I apologize. It won’t happen again. But I
am
committed, Jeff. Can you give me another chance?” My goals solidify. I look him in the eye, keeping my speech ‘Mrs. Dixon formal’, so he can see I’m serious. I’m scared, but I know I won’t run again.

I’m done running.

Jeff regards me for only a nanosecond. “When a Wielder dies, and if the Guardian is not yet dead, that Guardian is released from his pledge and returned to present day. However, three very different options exist for you, Miss Orin.” Jeff grimaces and paws at the stubble on his chin. “Victory, death, or injury—one that will keep you locked inside the curse with the rest of those condemned. Your power is forfeit and Alarr passes to the next Wielder. You cannot return because it is you that holds the bond with Alarr.”

Grey moves to stand near me. As his arm brushes mine, the muscles flex and go rigid as armor plate. His support emboldens me, and I stand a little taller.

Jeff doesn’t relax his stance. “Will you continue the training? Do all that is required to win? You must understand the importance of what you undertake.” Eyebrow raised, his glare shifts from me to Grey.

I glance up at my partner. The tight set to his handsome jaw suggests he’s made the same resolute choice I have.

Understanding isn’t a problem.
If I fail, I don’t come home.
Jeff’s given us the information before. Though frightened, something inside, some basic, primal instinct assures me we can win. Maybe I’m crazy, or just a fool. I don’t know, but I’m not backing down. Not this time. I wipe my sweating palms on my jeans and try to appear unaffected.

“Twenty-four-seven training,” Jeff warns. “Grey, you’ll have to deal with your parents. My way, my rules. For the next fourteen days, I am your king.”

King Jeff, huh?

Grey nods. The tiniest smile plays along his lips.

I sand my hands together and grin at my new king. “Bring it.”

• • •

Some of our daily training exercises take place in Jeff’s backyard. I practice extracting power from the amulet and channeling it to different parts of my body to enhance individual strengths. We execute a repeated series of stretches and tactical moves. Balance is key. The use of Alarr’s gifts is becoming automatic now that the stone and I are meshing. Still, I wish I had more time to train before the winter solstice.

“Enough warm up,” Jeff says.

Grey and I face off, circling each other as Jeff coaches from the sidelines.

“Don’t go easy on her, Mr. Mathews. You’re not at a damn cotillion. You’ll kill your partner by treating her like your mother’s Chihuahua. Tackle her. Hit hard. Get tough!”

Jeff’s pre-fight speech seems to fire Grey up. When he rushes me, I pull from Alarr and lift myself high in the air over his head. I twist and roll through space like an Olympic diver and land behind him on the turf. Grey whirls to face me again, his eyes narrowing to slits.

“Most Viking helmets have nose guards,” shouts Jeff. “When your opponent has no head gear, break his nose with an upward thrust. It’s painful and affects his vision.” Jeff sweeps his raincoat back and extracts a sword from somewhere deep inside.

Whoa!
I step back. His odd attire suddenly makes perfect sense.

“Here, like this.” He thrusts the hilt up near his jaw and nose demonstrating how to crush an opponent’s facial bones against the steel. “You can also use the heel of your palm, like so …”

Gray and I continue to circle one another. I know I can’t reach his nose, so I improvise and sweep my Shinai down toward his feet. With lightning response, he leaps, and my weapon contacts nothing but air. His fingers wrap around my stick, and a yank of his arm hauls me forward.

Oh, no you don’t.

I grit my teeth right before I twist my body, wrenching my stick free of his grip and smashing the rod against his forehead. The blow vibrates the length of my forearms as he reels backward like a soccer ball booted at the goal.

The instant his back thuds against the ground, I pounce on his chest, forcing a grunt from his lips, and pin his arms over his head.

“Give up?”

He scowls. “Not likely, Babe.”

I grin—can’t help myself. “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight the role of humiliated adversary will be played by Grey Mathews.” A laugh bubbles up from my throat.

“Don’t get cocky.” Grey’s legs come up and wrap around me, forcing me down on the lawn. His hands roll me over onto my stomach, and his palm spanks my butt so hard the sting makes me yelp.

In one movement, he arches his back and jumps to his feet like a Hip-Hop dancer. He extends his hands and crooks his fingers.

You want a piece of me?

A breeze snakes by and bristles the downy hair across my face. My mind grabs at it, capturing other tiny gusts from around the yard to combine until they’re strong enough to use.

As Grey lunges for me, I thrust the gathered winds against his chest in a blast of cold air. The force slows him long enough for me to slip away. A new gust shakes the treetops. I haul it down and shoot, hitting him again. This time his legs fly up in the air, and he drops on his rump with a groan.

And that, kids, is how it’s done.

I’m really getting the hang of using the amulet. I make fewer mistakes, calling on the power of Alarr for the strength of a bear or sight of an eagle. My head knows the temperature is frigid out here, but I hardly feel it. Like an animal, the energy I borrow makes me all but immune to the weather. I am faster, smarter, and can use the elements of wind at will. The possibility of getting out of this alive is starting to look more promising.

I laugh and twirl my Shinai stick. “Had enough?”

“Cheat,” Grey says under his breath. He glares as he rises to his feet, the elevation continuing until he no longer touches the ground. Elegance is in his every movement as he floats away. He’s mastering the power from his band to accomplish the same tasks I am.

Very cool.

My hands go up as I shrug. “All’s fair in life and death and survival, dude.”

“Well done,” Jeff says. “Tomorrow we advance to swords … next exercise.”

I gulp. Jeff likes keeping it real.

“You cannot create the elements,” Jeff says, as we face him for the next exercise. “But you can wield them from any nearby source.” He yanks the tarp off his pool. The silvery water reflects the clouds drifting above. “You already understand wind, now you must learn the others.”

Grey eyes the water. A dubious expression crosses his chiseled features, and he curses under his breath.

Fenris lies in a corner of the yard and ignores us, chewing the bottlebrush tree he yanked from the ground earlier.

“Birdie.” Jeff beckons me closer. “Position yourself at the edge of the pool, stretch out your hands and try to create movement in the water.

Grey nods his encouragement as I pass by.

Blue liquid laps the tiles along the pool’s edge. I try to direct the water with my mind, push, pull, get up underneath it with my will, but it won’t budge. Unlike wind, water has weight and a sluggishness that challenges the strength of my manipulative abilities. Sweat breaks out on my skin. My limbs quake with effort.

The connection I hold with the power of Alarr snaps like a broken rubber band, and with it, my concentration. Bent over at the waist, hands on my knees, my breaths pant from me.

“Help her,” Jeff snaps.

Grey appears at my side and reaches for me. I take his hand and force myself erect.

C’mon girl, you can do this.

My eyes close, and I focus on the image of the water that remains in my mind. I don’t try to collect or combine droplets of the whole like I do with little breezes. Instead, I think about swimming, displacing water with my arms and legs.

Dad took Mom and me to the beach when I was seven—before I could swim. He and I splashed in the waves, but as we moved into deeper water, I panicked.
I’m here,
he said, lifting me.
I’ll help you, baby Bird. There are doers and watchers, sweetheart, don’t let fear keep you from trying.
It’s one of the best memories I have of him. By the end of the day, I was doggie-paddling all on my own. My father’s face beamed pride as he swung me around in the water, creating a tiny whirlpool with our bodies in the center. Our version of a victory lap.

I focus on the way that felt and try again. Still hanging on to Grey, I reach out with my hands. In my imagination, I practice brushing the water back and forth with my palm, testing the resistance, counterbalancing my will against the heavy mass.

Fenris lets out a series of barks—a deafening racket. The sound of a hundred lions roaring at once fills my head, and I realize it’s not Fenris. It’s the waves. The raging din of water hurts my ears. Spray hits my face. Eyes remain shut in my determination to hold my concentration.

“Yes! Wonderful! Excellent.” Jeff’s voice carries triumphant, almost happy overtones.

“What are you … ? Are you crazy, man?” Grey shouts, “Tell her to stop. I can’t hold on!”

My eyelids crack open in response to Grey’s panic.

Every drop of water from the pool before me spins in a funnel twenty feet high. In a horizontal churn, it chases its tail in a perfect unending curl—a surfer’s dream.

My throat slams shut. Seeing what I’ve created, I freeze, afraid to let go. What if someone gets hurt, or I destroy Jeff’s house with the stupid tsunami I’ve made?

“Jeff,” I have to shout to even hear myself over the tumult. “What do I do?”

“Set the water upright and put it down. You can do this. Just slow it down and let go.”

Oh, sure, no problem.

Grey squeezes my hand. I lift one corner of the whirlpool up with my mind. The thing doubles in height and shrinks in width until its tip digs into the cement floor like an offshore oil drill. Grey’s steady energy helps calm the water’s movement. The sheer enormity of it terrifies me. I’m huffing as if I’m running on a treadmill. “Shhh,” I say to quiet the spinning funnel. “Sh, sh, sh.”

The tower of water wobbles left, right, left again, before sinking into the pool with a gigantic
plunk.

Water crashes over the sides in all directions. A sheet descends on me, driving me back. I gasp from the shock of the freezing water. A violent shiver runs through me, head to toe. Sputtering, I push the hair back off my face.

Grey throws his arms around me, and I’m hoisted into the air. His dark hair is plastered to his forehead, shirt hugging his pec muscles as he bounces me up and down.

I’ve never seen him all wet before, and the sight of him drives all other thoughts from my mind.

“You were fantastic.” Light dances in his eyes above flushed cheeks. “You did it!”

“
We
did it,” I correct him.

He grins and sets me down. I can tell the way his lips part he wants to say something else but doesn’t. Maybe it’s Jeff’s presence. I make a mental note to ask later.

Jeff walks over and extends his hands to us.

I quirk my brow when I realize Jeff is the only thing in the whole yard that’s completely dry.
How did he manage that?

The crater in the yard is now a murky pond. My mouth twists in a grimace before I look back to Jeff. “I’m sorry about the damage, Sensei.”

He shrugs. “Homeowner’s insurance.”

“Oh, good, because I—”