Of Noble Chains (The Ventori Fables) (21 page)

“I’ll talk to you later.”

Zia jumped from his car, and tried to not run for her house.  Her face felt as if it was beating along with her heart, and she didn’t want Hayden to see it.  But what had she been thinking?  She just kissed him!  Willingly!

The door to her bedroom shut gently, and she flopped onto her bed with a moan.  What was she doing?

First she had kissed Aeryn, although it was by complete surprise, and she thought she liked him.  But then Mal was confusing her with how she should feel towards Specters, and now Hayden was kissing her?  And she him?

She tried to tell herself it was the stress of everything getting to her.  But when she rolled over and puffed her bangs out of her eyes, she had a feeling that Iscah had been right.  Maybe she had liked Hayden all along.  Even the Incubus seemed to think so; he had shifted his appearance to the boy after all.

Knowing she would never be able to sleep, she took off her makeup and started doing a little research on her computer.  She wanted to stop thinking about relationships, and focus on business, so she began looking into the latest Ventori death.  And that led her to her brother again, when she found the last case he had been working on was Donataen’s.

The next day Zia was surprised to find she had actually managed to get some sleep after everything that had happened.  But she groaned overtop of her morning coffee, trying to count how many bones she had probably broken at Cal’s party.  She owed him an apology, but she was still mad that he had left Iscah alone after giving her that drink.  And she wondered if anyone had called the Guard; her eyes shot open when there was a knock at the door, and the image of the Light Guard coming for her filled her mind.  Clan members weren’t supposed to beat the heck out of humans!  Even if they were jerks.

But it wasn’t armoured guards that stood on her doorstep, it was Iscah.

“What are you doing here?” she questioned her hung over friend.  Iscah was wearing loose jeans, and an even looser sweater, with her hair tied back to drape over her shoulder.  She had large bags under her eyes, and let out a groan.

“I’m
sooo sorry,” she said, “I don’t know what happened last night!”

Zia waved her friend inside, and got her a cup of tea.  They both sat at the kitchen table, Win sleeping soundly upstairs and Cash already gone to work.  Zia rested her head in her hands and sighed, “Do you know what happened last night?”

“Not really,” Iscah confessed, “I remember Cal talking to me, and handing me a drink.  And then it just goes blank.  My dad is pissed.”

“I bet,” Zia laughed, knowing how her own father would feel if he had found out.  But she wasn’t sure if she should mention the stripping, or what she had done to protect Iscah.  With another heavy sigh, Zia told her everything; Cal or Hayden would probably open their big mouths sooner or later anyway.  Zia’s face flushed at the memory of Hayden’s mouth, but was brought back to reality when Iscah moaned again.

“I can’t believe it!” she cried, throwing her arms on the table and burying her face into them.  “I’ve never done anything like that!  Cal must hate me now!”

“If he hates anyone, it’ll probably be me,” Zia tried to make her feel better, “I’m the one that beat on his guests.  And I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“It’s not your fault,” Iscah leaned back up, “you didn’t make me drink.”

“But I saw you doing it,” Zia pulled her lips towards her teeth, “and I got distracted when I went to stop you.”

“Distracted by what?”

Zia wasn’t sure if she should tell Iscah about kissing Hayden, or that she had done it more than once.  The only part she knew she would leave out was Mal showing up, and threatening Hayden.  But he had done it for her, and she wasn’t sure what to think about that.  Instead, she asked Iscah, “Do you think all Specters are bad?”

Iscah flinched, and wrapped her hands around the cup on the table.  She quickly said, “No.  I mean, they’re just like me, like humans I mean, right?  Some are good, some are bad.”

“But Specters kill people,” Zia argued and Iscah looked down.

“I know you don’t like them,” she said, “after what happened to Donataen…but you can’t hate everyone because of what one person did.  Not everyone is evil.”

Iscah seemed so honest, and Zia didn’t have anything to say back.  She had known her best friend was the type to say that everyone was good, they had had plenty of conversations about it.  And Zia hated to admit that she was right, and that Aeryn was right.  She couldn’t keep hating Mal because of what he was, but she could hate him for stalking her.

“Maybe you’re right,” Zia whispered.

“How’s your mom doing?” Iscah suddenly asked, as if to avoid the topic.  But as soon as the words left her mouth, Zia felt even worse.  She didn’t just have to face her problems at work, she had them at home as well.

“Five months,” she looked away, “maybe less.”  She could feel the tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to fall, but she managed to hold them back.  She had never told Iscah any real timeline before; she had never told anyone.

“Oh Zia…I’m so sorry,” Iscah stood from her chair and wrapped her arms around her friend.  There was silence in the kitchen, a very long silence that Zia knew she would have to get used to very soon.

Win stood at the top of the stairs, listening as her daughter had retold last night’s events to Iscah.  She was happy, for a brief moment, that Zia seemed to be coming out of the shell she had been hiding in for the past two years when it came to Specters…but that quickly went away.  Iscah had asked the question, and Win knew what her daughter had done.

Five months, maybe less.  That was all she had left now, thanks to the sickness.  Five months of hospital trips, and sudden attacks.  Five months of watching her little girl have to watch her mother die, and watching her husband do the same.  Five months of pain, and sleeping, and nothing to help.

“There is one way,” Iscah said down the stairs, “that she might be able to live.”

“What?” Zia asked.  Win inched closer to the stairs, unsure of what this could be.  Nobody had ever told her there was a cure, or any way she could live.  Ever since she was a little girl she had known that she was sick; nobody had ever mentioned the possibility of her survival.

“I’ve been reading,” Iscah went on, nervously, “that when a human becomes a companion then they get a prolonged life, to match their…their master.”

Chairs screeched clattered and Win heard Zia slam her hands on the table.

“I won’t let her be used as a conduit!” she whispered loudly.  “To be some Casters companion!  She might live, but at what cost?  She’d be used for…for…”

“I’m sorry,” Iscah hurried, “it was just…I thought…”

“I have to go,” Zia declared, and Win moved down the hall so her daughter wouldn’t see her as she rushed by.  The door slammed shut, and Iscah was left alone in the kitchen.  Win descended the stairs, and turned just as Iscah was picking up a fallen chair.

“Is it true?” she questioned the girl.  “Would I be…would I live?”

Iscah’s pale eyes were rimmed with red, as if she had been crying all night.  But slowly she nodded her head, almost seeming guilty.  She said, “It is.”

“What do companions do?” Win came into the room, gently placing her fingertips on the table.  “Do you think…”

“I know someone,” Iscah blurted, “that you could be their companion, and I swear they wouldn’t use you at all for magic.  A-and they wouldn’t want much in return, just a promise.”

“A promise?” Win tucked a thin strand of hair behind her ear, this sounded too good to be true.  And she couldn’t stop the betrayal she felt for Cash for not telling her this sooner.  But then again…maybe he didn’t know, or he had easily accepted her death.  He was going to live to twice her age anyway; he must have accepted her death a long time ago.

“Just…” Iscah breathed heavily, her fingers turning white as she gripped the chair, “you have to promise not to tell anyone whose companion you are.  Okay?”

Win was beginning to get a dark feeling in her heart as she looked at the girl.  She was seventeen, about to enter her last year of high school, but she still looked like the little girl with blonde braids that Zia had befriended.  Win could remember her staying up to late during sleepovers, and sneaking out at fourteen to go to a party.  It was hard to see her look so troubled; Iscah was like her own daughter.

“What’s wrong?” Win asked, knowing there was something Iscah was hiding.

“I can make you my companion,” the girl confessed, and Win couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her mouth.  “Just don’t tell Zia!  Or Cash!”

Win’s mouth was hanging open, she knew that.  “Iscah…you’re…?”

“I’m a Caster,” she looked down, ashamed, “but I don’t do anything bad.  I barely do anything at all, actually.  And I know I should have said this before but…I just…”

“It’s alright,” Win came around the table and gave her a hug.  She was hesitant at first, but she eventually gave one back.  Win said, “You would do this for me?  Even though Zia…”

“I would,” Iscah started to cry, “I would.  I love you, you’re like my own mother, and I would do it even if Zia found out about me.  Even if she hated me, and never—“

“Shush,” Win ordered, “she could never hate you.”

They stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, just holding each other.  Win couldn’t believe this, the fact that Iscah was a Caster, or that she had a chance to survive.  Soon, Iscah said, “I have to ask my dad how to do it properly.  We can do it this afternoon, I guess, unless you need more time.”

Win released the girl, and considered if she should tell Cash or Zia about this.  But she knew that it would take time for Zia to get used to the idea, and Cash would do anything for her, right?  Win shook her head, and whispered, “This afternoon is fine.”

Because that meant that she would have a lifetime with her family.  They wouldn’t have to watch her wither away to nothing, to die in a hospital.  She would get to see her daughter go to college, and graduate college, and maybe even start a family someday.  With Hayden, of course, not that strange Aeryn man.

“Thank you,” Win kissed the top of Iscah’s head.  “I know this must have been hard.”

They exchanged another hug, and Iscah ran off to ask her father what to do.

Interesting
, the woman thought from her private realm.  She had planned on leaving to follow this Kehzia, but she was glad she stayed behind.  When she had seen the woman at the top of the stairs, her curiosity got the better of her; as it usually did.

She had the sickness, this Win Noble.  And that meant certain death for a human, unless a Caster stepped in.  This other girl, Iscah was her name?  She stepped in just in time.

But how Iscah had managed to conceal her power for so long, from so many Ventori, was beyond the woman’s imagination.  She could see it from her other realm, that aura of strength.  Many Casters weren’t capable of such power at that age, and yet she was already able to make herself a companion?

The woman brushed back her raven hair and left now that the little Caster was gone.  Kehzia Noble kept interesting company, and maybe it was about
time they made friends.  Maybe.

Zia’s boots pounded the concrete, her blood rushing through her veins at the thought of some Caster making her mother a companion.  She couldn’t help but imagine Achaicious running his magic through her, using her to kill people like he did Delmont. She shivered, even though it wasn’t cold out, and wondered where she was going.

She had left so suddenly, and now she was just wandering around New Havilan.  Aeryn hadn’t contacted her yet, and the thought of him only brought up more issues.

From her research last night, she had come up with nothing on her brother, Aeryn, or Cindel.  The only connection she had were love letters and a photograph, but it was enough.  Not only that, she had already figured out that it was Achaicious that had ordered the killings, which were then executed by his assistant.  His off-shore bank account was what managed to help him stay hidden, it seemed, along with his magic.

The cobalt dagger was heavy in her pocket, and she stopped on the concrete a moment to think about it.  Had it belonged to Trenton’s father?  Is that why the Realm Walker had picked it up?  Zia imagined Trenton in her mind, and decided it was time to visit him; maybe she could find out more about her brother in the process.

It wasn’t that hard to discover where she could find Trenton.  A quick call to the library and Mrs. Mayfield was telling her the directions.  The hard part was deciding what she would say when Trenton’s mother opened the door.  They both thought he had committed suicide, and Zia didn’t really have any connections other than the child.  So she picked up a bouquet of flowers on the way there, hoping the small gift would get her inside the house.

Trenton lived in a home much like her own, and Zia pressed the doorbell, flowers held at chest level.  Just as she began to bounce on her feet, she realized that she wasn’t dressed in typical mourning clothes; she was still in the same bright blue top as last night. 
At least I’m wearing jeans
, she thought to herself.