Unbound (26 page)

From the fire, Elora looked over her shoulder towards
me; her deep blue eyes sparkling as she belatedly noticed our arrival. She
leaned over to whisper in Mara’s ear, who nodded once and laughing, stood and
slipped out of the room quietly.

I turned back to the table, tuning into Eaden and
Sita’s conversation as I heard my name.

“Sorry?”

“Sita was asking what you do when you’re not embroiled
in dangerous quests for world peace.” Eaden`s tone was sardonic, but underneath
I heard the guilt that was never too far from his psyche. Eaden blamed himself
for our current predicament, although he could no more change my birthright
than this own.

Turning to Sita, I shrugged dismissively. “I work in a
library.” My job had seemed pretty mundane in the mortal world, but here, in
comparison to these striking women who resided easily among myth and legend, it
was embarrassingly pedantic.

She tilted her head and looked back and forth between
Eaden and me, her petite features riddled with curiosity.

Eaden nodded, looking entirely too self-satisfied for
my own liking. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “See?”

“What?” Now I was the one who was puzzled. Why were
they both looking at me like that?

Sita smiled a shy smile and bit her bottom lip. “I
read hearts,” she said.

This didn’t necessarily make things any clearer.

She took a slow sip from her mug, smiling at me over
the rim. “My gift, my talent, is knowing what others cherish, what breaks their
hearts, what makes them whole. Sometimes it is hidden from them, and sometimes
it is not, but –” she placed her hands over her own heart. “If there is
love and passion for something in the heart, then I know about it.”

“Oh.” For some reason, I felt my cheeks burn as if my
secrets had all been spilled onto the table for everyone to see.

Sita placed a small brown hand over my own. “Don’t
worry, Rachel, I rarely share what I see, and I respect everyone’s privacy.”
She flicked her eyes over to Stuart and back to me and then lifted her empty
mug.

“Gentlemen, would you mind getting us some more?”

“Of course.” Not fooled in the least, Eaden glanced at
me briefly and I smiled and nodded back at him. Sita seemed friendly. As he
rose gracefully from the table, he was hailed by a few others sitting close by
for refills, too. Stuart grimaced as he banged his long legs against the table
getting up.

“Time for girl talk,” Sita said directly once they
were out of earshot. “I read hearts, not minds.”

I stared back, still none the wiser.

“Why do you speak so dismissively about a job you love
so much?”

So that was what this was about. I shrugged. “It’s not
very exciting.”

She frowned. “And do you crave excitement in your
work?”

“God, no! Exactly the opposite. I like my job because
it’s quiet, and safe. And predictable.”

“So why are you embarrassed by that?”

I thought about her question for a moment. “I suppose
I’ve always felt like I copped out by taking a job at the library, like I`d
taken the easy way out.”

“Can others do your job as easily as you do?”

“Well, no, not really. It requires a lot of patience
and persistence and...I suppose you really have to love books.”
 
My smile felt weak.

She shook her head sternly. “You believe what you love
has no value because it comes to you so easily. Your kind have such strange
notions about happiness.”

“My kind? Do you mean mortals?”

“No,” she laughed. “Westerners.” Crooking a finger,
she beckoned me closer. “When I was a little girl, my mother discovered I could
read hearts. In my village, this was a rare and important skill, but I didn’t
have to work at it. It came to me as easily as speech does to an infant. People
in our village would come to me for help and guidance. I would assist people to
make good choices in love and in work and in life. It made me happy to do
this.” Her smile wavered. “Many years later, my village was destroyed by an
earthquake. Reading hearts had little value because everyone’s heart was broken
for a time, my own included. My family was killed,” she said softly. “When
Eaden found me I was very near to desperation and had almost lost all hope. But
he brought me here and my talent was valuable again. So you see, Rachel, there
will be times when your own skills are more useful to others, and times when
they are not, but what you love has value because you love it. No more, no
less.”

She finished speaking and folded her hands quietly in
her lap, regarding me patiently.

Overwhelmed, I struggled to return the kindness she
had just shown me. “Thank you, Sita. I’m sorry to hear about your family. That
must have been very difficult for you.”

“It was,” she said. “I’m sorry for your losses as
well.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Mine?”

“I read hearts,” she repeated. “I know what makes them
whole and I know what breaks them.” Her voice was filled with so much
compassion that my eyes filled with tears.

She leaned towards me. “But hearts can mend, Rachel.”
She looked behind me and then met my eyes again. “Eaden is proof of that; his
heart is as full now as it has ever been.”

Turning, I saw that Mara and Elora had hijacked him on
his way back to our table. Mara was pushing a guitar into his hands he was
clearly reluctant to receive. Laughing, Elora was encouraging him to sit down,
gently tugging on his arm.

Feeling my gaze, he met my eyes and frowned slightly,
seeing my brimming tears. Smiling broadly back at him, I nodded to show I was
okay and then gestured for him to play too. Too late, I saw the mischievous
glint in his eye. He turned to Mara and scowled good-naturedly and she beamed
with pleasure as he relented and took the instrument from her.

He cleared his throat loudly and as if a whistle had
sounded, the room fell silent. “Begging your pardon, but there’s been some
insistence that I play,” he arched an eyebrow at Mara, “in honour of the
Sisters who are leaving you tomorrow.” A few shouts of encouragement could be
heard as well as a few cat calls and one low, long, admiring wolf whistle.

Eaden grinned and held a hand up. “It would be my
privilege to entertain, however ineptly, for the friends gathered here, but I
do have one condition.” His voice rang out to the corners of the room. “I will
play, but others must sing and none can refuse.” Shouts of agreement rang out.

Groaning softly, I put my head down on the table. I
knew where this was going.

“I’d like to ask someone to join me for the first
song.”

Cringing, I hoped desperately that by some slim chance
he was speaking to someone else.

“Rachel?” Sita’s soft voice floated over the table top
towards me. I looked up to meet her kind eyes. “I think he means you.”

“Yes,” I turned to look at him over my shoulder where
he stood, waiting. “He does.”

The entire room waited, each and every Sister gathered
there looking at me in expectation with their vibrant eyes.
 

Closing my own, I took a deep breath and pushed myself
back from the table, walking on unsteady legs to where he stood near the
hearth. His grin grew wider and he inclined his head and gestured for me to sit
beside him. My hands were trembling so badly I crossed my arms over my stomach
to hide them.

“Eaden, I don’t think I can do this,” I muttered
feeling panic bubble up from my gut.

“Yes, you can, Rachel,” he whispered. “You already
have.” His smile was confident.

The room became still as the women waited, the hushed
rustling barely audible over the blood pounding in my ears. He began to strum
softly, the familiar notes of my favourite song floated through the air.

He remembered. From that night in his loft, he had
remembered my favourite song.

Closing my eyes to block out the faces that now stared
at me, eyes curious, I began to sing. My voice was quiet, not much louder than
the gentle plucking of the guitar strings. It was easier with my eyes closed
and I found that my voice gathered strength as I continued. Eaden played the
chords cleanly, the music spare and simple, which suited not only my voice and
the song, but the mood of the room as well. This was the song that reminded me
most of my father. I felt the familiar sensation of my throat tightening, but
this time, I didn’t stop and instead, let the tears come as they would. By the
final notes of the song, my face was wet, but my voice felt steady. The silence
lasted a heart beat or two and I took refuge there, savouring the complexity of
the relief and the joy that washed through me, now that is was over.

I opened my eyes when I heard clapping, a few Sisters
met my eyes and nodded in thanks.

Elora placed a hand on my arm. “That was lovely,
Rachel, you even made Mara cry.”

Mara glowered. “Hardly.” But her voice sounded husky.

Eaden, looking exactly like the cat that swallowed the
canary, immediately rescued me from the spotlight. “Who’s next?” he asked and
the blonde sister from this afternoon eagerly jumped up to sing with him.

Gratefully, I moved back to the table to sit with Sita
and Stuart, who met my return with praise and congratulations. Looking around
the room filled with laughter and music, I could easily forget why I was here.
This felt more like a Friday night than any Friday night I’d experienced in a
very long time.

Catching my eye, Elora crossed the floor to sit beside
me on the bench. She watched silently for a while and then nodded her head
towards Eaden. “I’ve truly never seen him like this Rachel. He’s so…” she
sought for the right word, “light.”

I bit my lip, nodded, glanced around again at all of
the women. “Isn’t anyone worried about tomorrow? I feel like the only one who’s
scared.”

She considered this. “No you’re not alone there, I
think. But there will always be something to celebrate and there will always be
something to mourn. So given the choice…” she shrugged.

“Celebrate it is then,” I finished.

“Tomorrow will happen whether we spend the night
laughing or crying. Be here, Rachel, be with him.” She looked towards Eaden and
I knew what she had left unsaid. While you can.

With a snort she elbowed me, gesturing towards the
hearth. Mara had taken a turn and she was belting out an Elvis song in a lusty
voice, accompanied by strategic hip-shaking. Eaden’s laughter almost
overpowered the music.

“He found Mara too, you know,” she offered quietly.

“Found her?”

“Her parents died when she was only a child. She was
sold to a woman who bought young girls.” Elora’s voice was hard and bitter with
implication.

That explained some of what I had observed in Mara,
her reluctance to get too close, her loyalty and sister-like adoration of
Eaden.

“How did he know where to find her?” To have found
both Mara and Sita was more than a coincidence.

Elora looked across the room at Mara as she spoke.
“Sannah has the gift of knowing where we all are in the world. All of us who
will become Sisters,” she clarified. “Most of us are born to mortal parents and
find our way here on our own. Others need some help. Sannah sees us and
–”

“Eaden brings you home.”

“Yes,” she said. She seemed pleased I understood.
“Mara was…damaged when she arrived at Nanog. Her life hadn’t been very easy,
although I think Eaden spared her from the worst of it.” Her eyes tightened.
“If not for Amerlyn, I’m not sure she would have found any peace. He brought
her back from a very dark place, helped her to feel whole again.”

Her eyes seemed to reflect the same torment that I’d
seen in Eaden’s. The pain of seeing someone they loved hurt with no way of
making it better.

“They seem very close.” I thought of how carefully
Mara assisted Amerlyn, how responsive she was to his needs.

“She won’t leave him,” she said simply.

“And you?”

She sighed. “I won’t leave her.”

There was no response to that which felt appropriate
to convey my gratitude.

“Thank you,” I managed finally.

She nodded and stood seeing that Mara had passed along
the vocal responsibilities to another Sister.
 

She touched my shoulder lightly. “Be here, Rachel.”
She walked away with the grace of a panther.

I met Eaden’s eyes across the noisy room. I was here.
Nowhere else I’d rather be.

The rest of the evening was a haze of singing and
drinking and even some dancing. Eaden passed the guitar along to someone else
eventually and came to sit beside me on the bench. My eyes grew heavy, but like
a child fighting bedtime, I roused myself time and time again to wakefulness,
not wanting to miss anything. Eventually I could not fight it any longer and I
drifted off, resting my head on Eaden’s shoulder, his arm supporting me,
listening to the voices of women whom I had just met, yet seemed to know better
than the people I had spent my entire life with.